Best Intentions
by dontcallmemrs
Summary: Modern take on Emma. Smartphones don't change people, they just make talking about them easier. *Seeking editors! DM if you're willing.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

The save the date was as beautiful as expected. "Save the Date for the wedding of Anne Taylor to Charles Weston. October xx, 2017. Negril, Jamaica."

Emma congratulated herself as she poured a second cup of coffee for her father. "I always knew they'd be a great match."

"Yes, but could she really be happy working in food service?" Mr. Woodhouse wrinkled his nose at her over his copy of the New York Times Sunday Edition.

Emma sighed. "Dad, we've been over this. You know Charles and his businesses well. Becoming the COO of his restaurant group is a far cry from acting as a hostess. Not that there'd be anything wrong with that. You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Insured the man 15 years, haven't I?"

"And you know how happy Anne has been since they started dating."

"Very well. But I still don't see why she had to leave me. Do you know how hard it is to find a new chief of staff?"

Emma internally debated the wisdom of continuing down this path. At 65, and having lost his wife (20 years ago, cancer) and his older daughter (3 years ago, marriage), Mr. Woodhouse had developed a remarkable knack for worrying himself over all sorts of imagined wrongs. Still, there could be worse traits for a man who owned a successful insurance company.

Sensing a way to head off additional morose thoughts, Emma continued gaily, "Speaking of the office, when is George coming by to sign his partnership agreement?"

Her father brightened. "Ah, right. He said he'd be here by 10 o'clock, which means," with a quick glance at his watch, "any moment now."

George Knightley, son of the late Robert Knightley, was many things to the Woodhouse family: business partner and protege, surrogate brother and actual brother-in-law (see above re: the elder Woodhouse daughter). The Knightleys and the Woodhouses had enjoyed close ties for nearly 35 years, when the two patriarchs had left a large Hartford insurance conglomerate to start their own company providing insurance to boutique hospitality groups all over New England. Over the years, they had built their small dream into a lucrative enterprise. From Greenwich, Connecticut to Portland, Maine, if you sought white-glove service for your hotel or restaurant, KW Insurance was the first number to call.

When Robert had passed 10 years ago (a black notation in Mr. Woodhouse's journal marked the date each year), George had only been an associate for 2 years, having returned to Hartford after graduating from NYU. But his aptitude for the business and his attention to detail had catapulted him through the ranks. And though some may have grumbled about his being the late boss' son, none could deny that he was a logical choice to be made partner, even at the tender age of 35.

Emma reached for a lemon ginger scone. "If there's anything that George is, it's punc-" A rapping knock and the kitchen side door swung open. "George. Speak of the devil and..."

"...He shall appear at the previously agreed upon time, looking appropriately relaxed for paperwork on a Sunday?" George smiled, his dark blue eyes crinkling at the edges.

"He shall interrupt the last few minutes I get with Dad before I have to head back to New Haven."

"Well, perhaps he's only being helpful by coming by the house."

"Well, perhaps he should have suggested a later time."

"Well-"

"Children." Mr. Woodhouse interrupted the building squabble. "As much as I love and respect you both, your arguing elevates my blood pressure."

Chastised, Emma sent George smile that was at once conciliatory and smug. She rose. "Sorry, Dad. And on that note, I should probably go gather my things to catch the 11:00 train." And with a quick flip of her auburn hair, she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The brain, when processing something new, tends to compare it to something else you have experienced. For this reason, you may be forgiven for assuming Emma was an entitled trust fund baby. The semiotics of her tastes - the leather trimmed Goyard bag, the quiet Rolex, the Barbour jacket that fended off the March rain - all certainly pointed in that direction.

But if you'd spent a moment in her presence, you'd know something was amiss with that first impression. Hazel eyes flashed with curiosity about the people she met. Poise gave way to warmth, especially during heated arguments over a glass of wine or two. She was always the first to offer and the last to take. And still, there was something innately inspiring about her - that quiet whisper of, _She's going places_.

Right now, that place was the Surrey Early Academy in downtown New Haven, where Emma spent 2 afternoons a week counseling qualified families on educational resources, social services, and access to nutrition. The program, which she had designed as a part of her doctoral work at Yale, was in its 3rd year. She worried regularly about the families she saw, and even more about the families she couldn't see.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep meditative breath. When she opened them, there was someone in the entry. "Hi, I'm Hannah Smith and I'm here about the daycare role and I'm so sorry I'm interrupting aren't I? I thought my interview was at 1:00, but now I realize it may have been 2:00 and-"

"Hi," replied Emma, marveling that Hannah had yet to take a breath. "Welcome. I'm Emma Woodhouse, and I assist with family services. I'm sure Robbie, our executive director, is close by."

Hannah's dark curly hair was frizzy with moisture, and her cable knit sweater was slightly too short for her torso. There was a small stain - tomato soup? - on the right sleeve. These observations were noted and discarded in favor of the generous smile that currently lit her face. "Oh, thanks! Is there somewhere I can hang my coat? It's been drizzling non-stop, don't you think? I normally don't have any issues with choosing outerwear, but I spent 10 minutes debating a rain coat or a wool coat because of this interview. I'm glad I went with the rain coat."

"Absolutely the right choice, given the weather. And here's Robbie." Emma nodded toward the sandy-haired man who had entered the daycare floor from the back office.

Robbie Martin's large hand clasped Hannah's smaller one, while his smile showed the dimple in his left cheek. "Pleased to meet you. Hannah, right? Come on back to the office. I'm glad you're here."

As they left her in the entry, Emma briefly wondered about Hannah Smith. Did she always say exactly what was running through her head? What was that stain on her sweater? And how would her hair look if it was straightened? Sophisticated, she was not. But the brightness of Hannah's presence hinted that she could be an intriguing new friend.

Emma shook her head to clear her thoughts, and smiled as her first appointment walked in.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

On the rare occasion that Emma wasn't working at the daycare center, meeting with professors, grading student papers, catching up on her own reading, or visiting her father in Hartford, Emma chose to treat herself to that most fundamental of indulgences: retail therapy. And since Hannah had joined the staff at Surrey Early Academy, Emma had found a new partner who she could easily convince to aid and abet her fiscal misdemeanors.

"How does this look?" Hannah had squeezed into a short shift dress that was a blinding shade of fuschia.

"I'm not sure that flatters you. How about this?" Emma held up a delicately embroidered A-line dress that was, more importantly, in Hannah's size. "Your eyes will pop."

As Hannah returned to the dressing room, Emma mused about changes at home over the spring. Anne Taylor's departure from KW Insurance was to be expected, but what Emma hadn't anticipated was how keenly she herself would feel the loss. Anne had been more than her father's chief of staff - in the 12 years she been professional counsel to Mr. Woodhouse, she had also been private counsel to Emma. At the age of 14, and with her sister Izzy freshly off to Vassar, Emma had needed a confidante to help navigate the trials and tribulations of adolescence. When she often stopped by the office to drop off lunch for her father, or papers he had left at home, she inevitably would find herself ensconced in Anne's office relating the most recent drama from school. Anne's guidance had been a touchstone through those tricky years.

Visits with Anne continued while Emma was at Smith, and through the first few years of her doctoral studies at Yale. But now, when Emma dropped by KW, Anne's empty office was a bittersweet reminder of the passage of time.

Maybe, Emma thought, she could invite Anne and Charles to dinner in New Haven soon. She'd hardly seen them since their engagement. Might as well invite George, too. It'd be a great chance to introduce them to Hannah. That was a perfect excuse.

At that moment, Hannah materialized in the A-line dress. Emma's eyes lit up. "That looks amazeballs on you. You have to get it."

"Are you sure?" Hannah looked doubtful. "It's so fancy; I'm not sure if I have anywhere to wear it. And it's way more than I was planning to spend."

Emma dismissed Hannah's concerns with a wave of her hand. "A dress like that won't go out of style. And don't worry about the cost. Please, it's my treat. I insist."

* * *

Emerging into the sunshine on Chapel Street, Emma steered Hannah toward a nearby cafe for lunch. As they were seated at a patio table, Emma heard a familiar voice over her shoulder: "Mind if I join you lovely ladies?"

Elton Cole was the son of one of Mr. Woodhouse's colleagues from Big Insurance, although he wasn't in the business himself. What business he was in, no one could exactly say, but if his social media feeds were anything to go by, it was by all appearances quite successful. Last month he had been in Dubai; the month before, the Maldives. Most people, Emma included, didn't bother to ask.

"Elton. What a surprise! What brings you to New Haven?" Emma rose to accept his kisses on both cheeks.

"Hanging out waiting for you, of course." Smooth, as always. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, Hannah Smith, Elton Cole. Hannah joined Surrey Early Academy as a daycare assistant a couple of months ago. We've been out and about browsing all of New Haven's finest boutiques. Want to join us for lunch?"

Elton pulled a chair from the next table and sat straddling the back. He smiled winningly at Hannah. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

As they sat arguing the merits of Game of Thrones the books vs. Game of Thrones the show over beet salads and iced mint teas, Emma couldn't help but notice how great Elton and Hannah looked together. And they were both single. Emma's matchmaking antennae went up.

"Elton, what are you doing next Friday? I'm thinking I might get a few people together for dinner here in town. Anne Taylor, Charles Weston, George Knightley - you know the crowd. Hannah, I hadn't mentioned it yet, but if you're free, I thought you might like to meet a few more of my friends."

Elton smiled again, and the thought flashed through Emma's mind that he must have spent a good deal on regular teeth whitening. "Well, if you and the lovely Hannah will be there, I think I can make myself free."

Hannah blushed. "Sounds like fun. And it'll give me a chance to wear my new dress."

"Great, it's settled." Emma had to restrain herself from doing a happy dance. Elton and Hannah were going to make a cute couple, and it would be all her doing. "I'll text the others after lunch."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

When the party of six sat down to dinner the following Friday, Emma privately congratulated herself on bringing together such an interesting and good looking group of people. It didn't hurt that they were also in one of Charles Weston's restaurants - this one offering seafood-focused tapas.

As they debated starters - charred octopus, definitely; hamachi crudo, perhaps - Anne Taylor leaned in toward Emma. "I have news for you. Frank Churchill is moving to New Haven."

Frank was Charles' son from a long ago relationship. Mother and father had never married, and when they eventually split up, Frank had moved with his mother across the country to Northern California. While Charles had continued to pay child support from afar, the relationship between father and son had been close to non-existent.

That is, until Frank was a junior in high school, and his mother had met someone new. The summer before his senior year, while his mother and new stepfather were on their extended honeymoon sailing around the Pacific Islands, Frank had reached out to his father, unsure of his reception. He need not have worried. Charles welcomed Frank to Hartford with open arms.

They spent a month together that summer, not mending their relationship, but beginning anew. Over conversations next to the firepit in Charles' backyard, they bonded over a shared love of lacrosse and cycling. When Frank left that August, he left with an open invitation to visit. He'd come back to Hartford two or three more times since.

Charles was deeply proud of Frank, bragging endearingly about his son's accomplishments first at UC Santa Barbara, where he studied electrical engineering, then at Berkeley where he got his MBA. Emma was as intrigued as anyone about his comings and goings, but affected mild curiosity.

"Is that so? What's he planning to do here?"

"He's joining a few friends of his from Berkeley who have a new start-up with a group at Yale. Some sort of automated investment technology. Fintech." Anne shot Emma a knowing look. "I've only Skyped with him, but if he's as handsome in person as he is online..."

Emma laughed. "Lord help us all."

* * *

Across the table, George Knightley was not having as merry of a time. Dinners like this made him antsy. It was too busy and too loud to have a proper conversation, which meant he'd rather sit in silence. Having Hannah Smith on his left didn't help either. The girl, who was slightly overdressed in a very pretty frock, didn't seem to have an opinion on anything. But he knew Emma liked her, so he would try.

"Have you been here before?"

"No way! This place is totally fancy. How cool that we get to have dinner with the owner! How many restaurants does Charles own? Does he have one in New York? I was in New York last month and ended up at a great place that served DIY Bloody Marys. Do you like Bloody Marys?"

George had to concentrate to keep track of Hannah's questions. "6, mostly in Connecticut. Yes, there's one in New York, in Brooklyn Heights. And not really a Bloody Mary fan."

"Oh, what do you like to drink?" Hannah seemed genuinely interested in his response.

"Wine - reds, mostly." George looked down at the drink list. "There's a nice Pinot Noir from California here that I'm contemplating ordering a glass of."

"Maybe I'll try that, too."

"Anything the lady wants, the lady gets." George and Hannah turned their heads to acknowledge Elton Cole, who was seated across from Hannah. "Why don't I make a suggestion?"

With Hannah's attention diverted, George used the opportunity to observe their interaction. Elton had embarked on a self-debate over the differences between crudo, sashimi, tartare, and ceviche, Hannah listening with rapt attention. George was not the only one who noticed. As he caught Emma's eye, he gathered his powers of telepathy. _What is this guy doing here?_

Emma raised her eyebrow and shot a quick side-eye glance at Elton and Hannah in response. _What do you think of these two?_

A short, almost imperceptible shake of George's head. _A disaster._

This time, the other eyebrow came up, and the look in Emma's eye was almost defiant. _We'll see._

* * *

Pouring out the last drop of wine into George's glass, Anne asked him, "What do we think of Emma's new friend?" It was just the two of them at the table; Emma and Hannah had absconded to the bathroom, Elton had departed for some new bar opening, and Charles had disappeared briefly to talk with his general manager.

"Pretty, but dull."

"You don't mince words, Knightley."

George shrugged. "I call them as I see them. Hannah adores Emma, and Emma likes being adored."

"That's incredibly harsh." Anne frowned at George.

His tone became conciliatory. "I think Emma unconsciously treats Hannah as a research project. You know how she is. She sees opportunities to improve things - health systems, social services, people - and she takes it upon herself to do it."

"Our Emma has always been a tinkerer. I can't pretend to not have benefited - if it weren't for her, I may have never taken the leap with Charles." A beat. "You know she wants to hook Hannah up with Elton."

"I do. And I think Elton is more interested in hooking up with her."

"You noticed that too." Anne sighed. "Well, whatever else, at least it was a nice dinner."

George clinked his glass with hers. "To the generosity of friends."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

That Sunday morning, Hannah came by Emma's studio near campus. With cups of coffee in hand and Real Housewives on mute, the two clambered onto her down-filled sofa to gossip.

"What did you think of dinner?" Emma asked. "Did you have a good time?"

"Oh my god that was so much fun! I've never really had food like that before. I tried so many new things. Are all Charles' restaurants the same?" Hannah's enthusiasm was palpable.

"No, he generally creates unique concepts based on the neighborhood, what's available in the area, who he's working with. There's another spot up in Hartford. We can go sometime, maybe meet up with Elton." Emma's look turned sly. "Speaking of Elton..."

"Yeah, he was nice. He knew a lot about raw fish." Hannah hesitated. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

Emma nodded in encouragement. "Sure, anything."

"What do you think about Robbie at the Academy?"

"Executive Director Robbie?"

"Yeah. He's cute and he always helps out with pickup from the daycare. And I know he's technically my boss, but I don't actually report to him. I don't know. He's cute."

"You said that already. And wait, back up. Did something happen between you and Robbie?"

"Kind of. I noticed he's been staying late to help clean up the center with me. And last week, I think we had a moment. He texted me yesterday asking if I wanted to have a drink this afternoon."

Oh no, Emma thought, Robbie wasn't right for Hannah. He was so _mundane_. "Do you want to get a drink with him?"

Hannah looked torn. "I don't know. Do I?"

Emma saw her opportunity. "I don't think you do. I think you want to find a way to let him down gently, because he's the executive director." Hannah reluctantly nodded. "I mean, it's not really professional, is it? To ask an employee out when you're their boss' boss?"

"I suppose not. But is it really crossing the line?"

"Technically, no, since you don't report to him. But workplace romances get complicated, even if they go well. And you just got to the Academy and you like it there. The kids love you. No sense in jeopardizing that."

Hannah sighed. "You're right. I know you're right."

"Of course I am. You're doing the right thing." Emma smiled in reassurance. "Hey, it's not all doom and gloom. I thought I detected some sparkage between you and Elton on Friday."

"Really? I mean, I guess he was nice."

"Are you kidding? He totally turned on the charm for you. 'Oh, let me order you this very fancy dessert.' 'You look cold, here's my jacket.' "

"Yeah, except I wasn't cold at all. Actually, I was kind of wondering if he was showing off in front of you."

"What? No. Definitely not. He was totally into you. Trust me."

"If you say so." Hannah looked up from her coffee mug. "Do you think I should do anything about it?"

"Name your first-born Emma." Hannah snort-laughed in response.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

The end of April was drawing near, and with it came Surrey Early Academy's semi-annual board meeting. As a courtesy to the board of directors, Emma and her thesis adviser were slated to present on early progress in her counseling program.

Deep in thought about success measures and the relationship between nutrition and cognition, she startled at George's knock on her office door.

"Hi. Mind if I come in?" George's smile was at once friendly and grim.

"Of course. I thought the meeting started at 5?" A glance at her watch said it was only 3:45.

George was the latest addition to the board, having been recruited by Emma last year to serve on their finance committee. His demand for precision and ability to foresee risk had already been of great benefit to Robbie and the program managers.

"Right. I'm actually here in a personal capacity."

Emma's brow furrowed. "About?"

"Look, I had lunch with Robbie last week to talk about proposed renovations to the daycare center. And during lunch, he asked me - off the record - about Hannah. Seems like he had felt there might be something more there, but lately has gotten some mixed messages. And he knows you two are close, and you and I are close, ergo..."

"You want to know if I had anything to do with the message mixing."

"It's not out of the realm of possibility. You seem to have other plans for Hannah."

Emma bristled under Jack's gaze. "So what if I think Hannah could do better? Robbie's a nice guy and all, but-"

"But what, Emma? Robbie would be a great guy for Hannah. Certainly better than Elton Cole."

"But Robbie is so," she paused, looking for the right word, "bland."

"And Elton is full of shit."

"Is not."

"Real mature, thanks. You know as well as I do that we tolerate him because our parents all did business together.

"But let's be honest, Emma. You don't think Robbie is good enough for Hannah because he doesn't drive a fancy car or have a fancy education. But unlike Elton, his heart is in the right place. It's in this place, for God's sake. And he works hard and can go home knowing he's making a difference. That's more than Elton can say, for all the pretty pictures he posts on Instagram. And I'm surprised you can't tell the difference."

Emma, quiet during George's speech, had had enough. "So what if I want more for my friend than working paycheck to paycheck? We both know that social services, no matter how noble, doesn't always pay the bills. Excuse me for trying to make things easier for her while she does important work here. Elton may not be right for everyone, but he's been nice to Hannah, and they look good together.

"And since when is coming from a well-off family a strike against someone? What does that make me? What does that make you?" George winced as Emma continued. "Yeah, I thought so. Snobbery works on multiple dimensions, you know. You can't deny that material wealth has made your life far easier than others have it.

"I'm only looking out for Hannah. I'm sorry Robbie got hurt in the process, but that's the way it goes."

"You're being callous, Emma."

"So what? You're obviously ready to believe the worst of me right now. I think this conversation is over. I'll see you during my presentation to the board."

George opened his mouth, then thinking better of it, shut it. He knew when he'd lost the battle. With a nod, he let himself out.

 _So much for good intentions_ , thought Emma as she reached for a bottle of Advil.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

The confrontation with George did nothing to dampen Emma's determination to bring Hannah and Elton together. In fact, it only firmed her belief that they were right for each other. With her virtuous goal in mind, Emma set out to recruit her friend to join her in Hartford on the first warm weekend in May.

"We'll do some hiking, get ice cream from Frisbie's, sit by the firepit and roast marshmallows. It'll be a nice break from New Haven." As Emma spoke, Hannah's interest grew.

"Will your friends be home?"

"Not sure." Emma pinned Hannah with a smirk. "Elton should be there."

Hannah blushed. "I wouldn't mind running into him. He added me on Instagram _and_ liked one of my photos. That has to mean something, right?"

Emma smiled kindly. "Of course it does."

* * *

The weather that weekend lived up to expectations, and at approximately 1pm that Saturday, Emma and Hannah found themselves returning from a grueling but beautiful 7-mile hike on the Metacomet Trail.

"I'm so hungry I could eat my own foot," complained Hannah as they collapsed in Emma's car.

Emma laughed. "Easy there. You'll need that foot if you want lunch at the club."

"Do you think we'll get in with our sweaty gear?"

"Silly Hannah. I grabbed extra clothes on our way out the door. We'll treat ourselves to a steam and shower in the locker room, then order half the menu in the dining room."

"You really think of everything, don't you?"

* * *

It was well after 4pm as Emma and Hannah took the scenic route toward the Woodhouse home in Farmington. Another advantage of the route - aside from the scenery, that is - was who lived on it. Emma slowed down as they approached a familiar figure walking on the side of the road.

"Elton Cole, as I live and breathe." Emma grinned at him as he approached the open driver's side window. Sometimes, her bets paid off.

"Well look who decided to grace us with her presence. What are you ladies doing here?"

"We told people we were just visiting for the weekend, but we're actually pulling a heist at the Hartford Junior League. I hear there's some pretty fancy china. Want in? Meeting at my house, 8pm. Bring marshmallows and wine."

"I'm in. See you at 8. Hey Hannah." With a wink at Emma's passenger, Elton departed.

Hannah had been holding her breath through the entire exchange. On a long exhale, she said, "Now I'm extra super grateful for that change of pants."

Emma burst out laughing. "I don't think you meant that."

* * *

Elton arrived at 8:45 and found the ladies on Emma's back patio nestled in lounge chairs around the fire pit. As he sat down to join them, Emma popped up. "I'll be right back - I'm just going to see if Rose needs any help with the clean up from dinner." She knew full well that Rose, their housekeeper of 20 years, didn't need or want any such thing.

But Emma still managed to put away the few remaining dishes, then linger with Rose over a cup of tea for the next half hour. Only after Rose retreated to her suite for the night did Emma carefully return to her guests, hoping to detect traces of love in bloom, or at least a hasty makeout session.

What she saw was - inconclusive. Elton had taken the seat next to Hannah's and was currently pouring her friend another glass of wine. "This stuff is fantastic," he was sharing. "My father does business with the winemaker in Napa. Have you been to Napa?" Hannah shook her head no. "Oh, it's great. Maybe you'll get there someday."

Emma sighed. Maybe Elton was a little denser than she thought.

* * *

Hannah looked up as Emma returned; she was grateful for the easy presence of her friend. Elton's worldliness intimidated her - she never knew what to say or think when he was telling her what she should know about things like sourcing fine watches or the difference between a Barolo and a Chianti. But it could just be nerves. He was pretty cute when he got started on a topic. "You're back," Hannah said with relief.

"Yeah, sorry, seems like we made a bigger mess than we realized. I didn't want to stick Rose with all the cleaning. But now I'm here. What are we talking about?"

"Nothing important," said Elton. "What else do you have planned for the weekend?"

"Just a leisurely brunch in the morning, maybe stop by the frame shop after. I got a great photo of Hannah today on our hike, and I'd love to get it printed." She passed her phone to Elton.

"Epic. Hannah, you look awesome in this photo." Hannah blushed at the praise. "You know, you should just post it on Instagram or Snap. I'll bet it could get at least 100 likes."

Emma shrugged. "Not everything is about likes. Don't you think it'd look great in a frame with a nice wide mat? Gallery style."

"Tell you what, Emma - I'd love to get that photo of Hannah framed for you. I could bring it by when you're back for Charles Weston's Memorial Day barbecue."

"Oh, that's sweet of you! What do you think, Hannah?"

Hannah swallowed the gulp of wine she had taken. "Sure."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

By Memorial Day, Emma had had enough of her silly detente with George Knightley. They hadn't seen each other in a month, which was far longer than she could remember at any point since her childhood. It was time to make amends.

Luckily for Emma, brunch at the Woodhouse home with Izzy and Jon Knightley provided the perfect opportunity for her to demonstrate how over it she was.

After Vassar, Izzy had set her sights on landing a writing job in a newsroom. Out of sheer luck (or perhaps a well-timed lunch at the club, but Mr. Woodhouse knew nothing about that), she had an enticing offer from the Hartford Courant. So Izzy moved home, satisfying her father's need to have his children in close proximity at all times.

Then came Jon Knightley.

Of course they had known each other for as long as their fathers had been in business together. But Jon, being three years older, had departed for Brown when Izzy was 14, and had moved to New York afterwards. Their paths had little reason to cross, save for the sad occasion of Robert Knightley's funeral.

Flash forward to 2010, at Libby Regents' bachelorette party in New York, when Izzy spotted a familiar face across the bar. Jon had grown up, filled out. That night, their fate was sealed. Within two years, Izzy had moved to New York to write blog copy for independent apparel companies (freelance, natch.) In another two years, Jon and Izzy were married. This past January had brought a new addition to the family - adorable little Millie, whom Emma was currently wielding as a charm against George Knightley's disapproval.

"She looks comfortable with you." George tickled Millie's chin as she blew spit bubbles in response.

"Of course she's comfortable with her Auntie. Aren't you Millie Bean?" Emma blew a raspberry on Millie's cheek. "Aren't you?" Millie giggled her response.

Mr. Woodhouse's voice carried across the living room. "Emma, I hope you aren't transmitting anything from New Haven onto that baby. You know how dirty the city air is."

Emma winked at George. "Yes, Dad. I've thoroughly washed my hands, I promise." George hid a smile.

"Actually, Dad, we have Millie in daycare twice a week so that she can build her immune system. Socialize the baby, socialize their bugs." Izzy, always the big sister, was quick to defend Emma.

"Daycares are cesspools. You really ought to have Millie checked by a doctor."

Jon's eye-roll wasn't subtle. "I promise we also thoroughly washed Millie's hands before she touched Emma."

As Jon and Izzy continued to defend their choices regarding their daughter's hygiene, Emma drew back toward George. "So. Should we acknowledge the elephant?"

George shrugged. "Is that what we're doing?"

"It's what I'm doing. I still disagree with you, for what it's worth."

"I'm not going to argue with you anymore about this, Emma. Are we agreeing to disagree?"

"Seems like it." Emma smiled consolingly. "In any case, I think Elton's going to make a move soon. I can feel it." Her smile turned cheeky.

"Don't poke the bear, Emma."


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Every year, Charles Weston hosted a barbecue on Memorial Day weekend. Everyone went, from friends and neighbors to his restaurant staff with their families in tow. Over the years, it had grown as Charles' circle of friends and employees grew. What used to be a charcoal grill and a few beers on the back patio had eventually evolved into almost 200 guests, with a tent, full bar, and lawn games. The menu varied from year to year, based on Charles' whim, but it was always a chance to cook great food for the people he loved best. The only rule was no ties or jackets. Flip flops encouraged.

The Woodhouses and Knightleys had been added to the invitation list when Charles had become a client at KW Insurance. In the 15 years since, Emma had only missed one barbecue, and she still swore that if that deer hadn't hit her car, she would have made it. She had the antler marks in the side door to prove it.

The scene at the Woodhouse home at 3 o'clock Monday afternoon could only be described as a study in controlled chaos. Emma leaned against her car as Jon and Izzy argued over which toys to pack for Millie and whether they wanted her stroller or a carrier. Mr. Woodhouse kept emerging from the house, only to remember something that he had forgotten to bring along or turn off, which would require him to make "just one more trip" back inside. Emma was contemplating giving everyone to the count of ten when an unfamiliar car pulled up, blocking the driveway. She approached, squinting to identify the driver as he climbed out.

"Elton. What a nice surprise."

"Hey Emma. Thought you might like a ride to Weston's shindig." He gave her a hug. Emma felt slightly dizzy from the strength of his cologne.

"That's kind of you, really – but as you can see, we're sort of already making our own plans. New car?"

"Slick, right? It's on loan from the dealer. I'm taking her out, feeling how she handles." Emma held back a wince at his casual reference to the car as 'her.' Elton didn't notice. "Anyhow, I figured, why not drop off that picture, see if any pretty ladies needed a chauffeur." He opened the trunk and removed a large flat package wrapped in brown paper.

"Oh, thanks! It was really nice of you to frame such a beautiful picture of Hannah."

"A picture is only as good as its photographer." He flashed her that white smile. "Why don't you open it?"

Emma hesitated. "You know, I'd love to, but I don't want to keep my family any longer." She tossed an apologetic smile to Jon and Izzy, who had just settled Millie into her car seat with a couple of board books. "I'll just set this inside while I wrangle my dad. Thanks so much for bringing this by – I'll see you at Charles' house?"

"Sure, yeah. I'll see you there." With a flourish, Elton open the driver's door and got in. The engine revved once and he was gone.

When Emma turned back, Jon was right behind her. He held Millie's carrier in his left hand. "That the Cole's kid?"

"Yeah – Elton. I think he's trying to impress my friend Hannah by sucking up to me."

Jon smirked. "Whatever you say."

* * *

At 9 o'clock that evening, Emma was thoroughly exhausted. Three games of croquet, a dip in the pool, and two big plates filled with pulled pork, tamales, and Charles' famous German potato salad had sapped her energy. Not to mention the countless refills of grapefruit margarita.

Sitting herself down next to George on a patio lounger, she dropped her head on his shoulder. "I feel like I could sleep for days. I wonder if Anne would let me just crash here tonight."

He threw a companionable arm around her. "I don't think she and Charles would mind. Looks like Jon and Izzy are fading fast as well." He nodded toward the couple, who were seated with their backs against a tree. Millie was fast asleep in her carrier on Jon's chest. The fairy lights hung in the trees and around the tent gave everything a warm glow.

"I should stay to help with the cleanup. I know they hired a crew for outside, but have you seen the kitchen? It's chaos."

George smiled, and Emma was suddenly struck by how handsome he was. _Weird_ , she thought. _It'll pass._

Their quiet people watching was interrupted by Mr. Woodhouse's approach. "Emma, don't you think Millie should sleep in a proper bed?"

"I'm sure Jon and Izzy know her limits, Dad."

"I'm positive I read a study somewhere that said infants who don't sleep in the exact same position in absolute silence have trouble later in life with reading. Something about clogging up their neurons with sound. Maybe it's time to go home."

"Actually, I was just thinking I might stay to help tidy up. But Jon and Izzy look ready to leave. Why don't you take them in my car? I could always get a ride or call an Uber later."

"You young people. I don't like the idea of you riding in cars with strangers. Did you hear about the girl in New York who ended up in New Jersey?"

"Okay, no Uber. I promise." Emma's tone was soothing. "Still, you should feel free to head home now. I won't be too late."

"If you say so. George, see that Emma gets a proper ride home with someone we know."

"Aye aye, captain."


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Emma was drying platters at the kitchen sink when a waft of familiar cologne washed over her. Turning around, she smiled at Hannah's would-be suitor. "Elton. I thought you'd left."

Elton leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. Overall, he projected an air of practiced insouciance.

"I'd never leave Emma Woodhouse hanging. Did you have a good time tonight?"

This time, Emma's smile _was_ genuine. "Charles always throws a great barbecue. And now that he and Anne are getting married, he's become like family."

"Yeah, they make a great couple." He moved closer. "You know, Emma, I've been thinking. Ever since college, my life has been insane. Work hard play hard, you know what I mean?"

Emma stilled. This was it. He was going to ask for her blessing to date Hannah.

"And I'll be honest – I've had a good time. It's not like I'm a monk or something. I've got a lot to offer someone. It's just – I haven't found the right person yet. She's got to be special. Have a good sense of humor. Do her own thing, but knows how to have a good time."

Emma didn't think any of those traits were particularly compelling, or even unique. But this wasn't about her. When had Elton gotten so close?

"But now?" She held her breath.

"But now I have you." Elton's head moved in. Hers shot up. Chin and forehead connected. _Ouch_.

"What are you –" "What the HELL?"

Emma pushed him away. "Did you just try to kiss me?"

"That's what we were doing until you hit my chin. Jesus, Emma. I think you chipped a tooth."

"Why would you do that?"

"I think it's kind of obvious, isn't it? We were having a moment."

"But what about Hannah?" What a disaster, thought Emma.

"What _about_ Hannah?"

"You've been flirting with her every time we've hung out. You made googly eyes at her in my backyard. You took her picture to get framed."

" _You_ invited me over. _Your_ picture." He rolled his eyes. "Look, Hannah's just not my type. She's a nice girl, but let's be honest. She's basic."

"She's sweet."

"Whatever. What I want to know is, what about us?"

Emma stared at him in disbelief. "There is no us. Never was. Never will be. I'm sorry if I've given you any reason to think differently."

Elton's eyes narrowed. "You think you're too good for me? You're a tease and a frigid bitch. No wonder why you haven't had a boyfriend all these years. You think guys like me fall from the sky? Good luck finding someone worthy of you."

He turned and stormed out. A few seconds later, the front door slammed.

Emma, who had unconsciously gripped the sink during Elton's nastiness, released her hands. She crossed her arms, leaned back, and took a steadying breath. She was still in the same position when George found her moments later.

"Hey, I thought I heard the front door. Thought you might have broken my promise to your dad about getting you home."

"Nope. Still here." Emma smiled weakly.

George's head tilted as he appraised her. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Just a weird moment with Elton. Between you and me, I think he might have had one too many."

A poor response, but he knew better than to probe. "Good thing he has that fancy car from the dealer."

Emma shook her head as she chuckled. "You shouldn't make jokes like that. But how about that ride home?"

"Yeah, let's go find our hosts. Time to blow this popsicle stand."


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

It was just after 5 o'clock at the Academy, and Emma was dragging her feet. On the other side of her office door, she could hear Hannah vacuuming the daycare floor. Abruptly the vacuum stopped. Emma steeled her resolve. She had to tell Hannah about Elton.

Opening her door, she stuck her head out. "Hey lady. Want to grab a drink?" Casual. Good.

Hannah perked up. "Yes please. Tommy Larsen was a shin-kicking maniac this afternoon. I need a beer to nurse my bruises."

As they stepped outside in the warm June evening, Emma felt her adrenaline kick in. _Oh God, here we go._

"Elton tried to kiss me. I'm so so sorry. I never intended for that to happen. You should know I stopped him before he made contact." The words flooded out in a single breath.

Hannah stopped walking. "He did what?"

"He tried to kiss me."

"When? And did you let him?"

"At Anne and Charles' barbecue this past weekend. And God, no. You know I always thought he liked you. You know how sorry I am, right?"

"Why? Did you do something to make him want to kiss you?"

 _All I had to do was exist_ , thought Emma. "I didn't think I did."

"Huh." Hannah looked pensive.

They started walking again.

"You seem to be taking this well," observed Emma.

Hannah's smile was grim. "You didn't know he was going to do that, right?" Emma nodded. "Well, then, screw him. Let's go get that drink.

* * *

Halfway through their first round, Emma was still feeling remorseful.

"I'm so sorry I encouraged you with him. I totally misread everything."

Hannah sighed. "I mean, I'm not going to lie. It sucks. But I don't blame you." Another sip. "Actually, I've been wondering why you don't have a boyfriend. You're gorgeous and smart and fun to hang out with. If guys looked at me the way they look at you…"

Elton's words rang in Emma's head. _Tease_. _Frigid bitch_. Emma knew Elton had been deliberately cruel, but it still stung.

She gave Hannah a feeble smile. "I guess I'm just not interested right now."

"Truly?" Hannah was incredulous.

"Truly. It's not like I have the time anyway. Between thesis work with the Academy, teaching, my friends, and taking care of my dad, my schedule is packed."

"What about love?"

Emma shrugged. "It'll happen for me when I'm ready for it, I suppose. In the meantime, if I can see my friends happy, I'll be satisfied. That includes you, you know."

"Damn right it does. Chicks before dicks, I always say. That was crude, wasn't it? I should watch my language. I'm always afraid I'm going to say something terrible at the Academy and one of the kids will repeat it at home."

"I don't think you have to worry about that here." Emma relaxed, just a tiny bit. Hannah was starting to sound like herself again. "Anyway, I'm done with this for now. Let's get another round."


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

With the undergrads gone for summer break, June was always slightly calmer on campus. Emma seized the opportunity to meet Anne in Hartford for lunch on a slow Tuesday.

"Will you be home for the 4th of July?" Each year, as if by unspoken agreement, a few neighbors gravitated to the Woodhouse home for a casual pool party. It was a nice reprieve from their larger social circle, who mostly spent the holiday in places like East Hampton or Nantucket.

"Of course. Rose is already working on her shopping list." While technically a day off for their housekeeper, she always opted to stick around to grill burgers with the family. Emma was adamant that Rose never lifted a finger to clean while off duty. "When is Frank coming, by the way? Do you think he'll want to join us?"

Anne's face dropped a little. "Oh. I hadn't told you yet. Frank is putting off his move, I guess. We're not sure when he'll get here. Charles didn't really have any details – just that 'something came up.' I can't tell if he's upset or not."

"What about you? You seem a little upset yourself."

"Yeah. It's a bit disappointing. Charles was really looking forward to see him."

"Well, I hope Frank makes it out here soon. Although, I'd like to give him a piece of my mind when I do meet him. I hate to have you or Charles upset."

Anne smiled. "I'm not going to address the inherent contradiction there. But thanks. You care too much about others."

They were interrupted by a flurry of color and the sound of jangling bangles. Alicia Bates was considered a bit of an eccentric in their circles. The middle-aged daughter of another one of Mr. Woodhouse's colleagues, she moved back to Hartford from Vermont to be with her aging mother after her father's passing. They had traded the family home for a little bungalow on the outskirts of town. Theirs was a very Grey Gardens existence, without (thankfully) the filth.

"Anne! Emma! You'll never believe it! I've had another letter from Jane!" Jane Fairfax was Alicia's niece that was a year behind Emma in school. She had visited occasionally from her home in Rochester, NY, but Emma had always found her a little distant. "She's with the Peace Corps in Cambodia, you know." They knew. Jane wrote Alicia monthly – snail mail, since the village she lived in often had internet blackouts. Alicia had a tendency to carry the letters with her and read them aloud at any opportunity.

Anne maintained perfect interest. "How exciting! What's the news from Cambodia?" She shot Emma a look when the younger woman couldn't quite smother a smile.

"Seemed like there was a malaria outbreak in the surrounding villages. Not to worry, though. They managed to contain it by distributing mosquito nets to the villagers. Jane is such a do-gooder. You know this is her second assignment there?" Of course they knew.

In any case, Alicia didn't give them a chance to respond. "She's almost done though. I can't believe she's been in Cambodia for four years. Four! I went to Mexico for two weeks once and I couldn't wait to get home after those two weeks. Imagine, four years."

Emma tried to move the conversation along. "What else does Jane write about?"

"Oh! This is the exciting part!" Alicia scanned the letter with her finger. "Now let me find this passage...here it is. 'I have some very exciting news…I have been accepted to Yale's graduate program in International and Development Economics! So, I will be coming back to the States soon, first for a short stay in Rochester, and then near you in New Haven. Isn't that great?' Isn't that great?" repeated Alicia.

"It absolutely is," affirmed Anne. "When does she arrive?"

Alicia's eyes dropped back to the page. "'I'll be leaving Cambodia as soon as I deliver my report to my field office, and plan to be in Connecticut by July 4th. I hope to spend some time with you before moving to New Haven.' She'll be here so soon! Isn't that just wonderful? We'll have to throw her a party to welcome her. And Emma, she'll be your neighbor at Yale."

"Well, if she's in town, she's welcome to come by and spend some time by the pool with us." As the words left her mouth, Emma kicked herself. She hoped they might have other plans.

"Oh how nice! We didn't have plans, and now we do! I'm sure Jane will like that. She's a champion swimmer, you know. Won gold at the Junior Olympics."

"Well, I can't promise any competition. I'm afraid our pool won't be quite up to Jane's standards." Emma ignored the warning in Anne's eyes.

"Oh, you know Jane. She won't mind. How silly, a swimming competition at home." Alicia tittered obliviously. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. I have to pick Mother up from Zumba. Imagine, Zumba at her age!"

As Alicia left the cafe, Anne sighed. "Emma, why can't you let her comments go?"

Emma felt little remorse. "Everything I say goes over her head anyway. Trust me, she didn't notice."

"That doesn't make it right. You know how much she gave up to be with her mother."

"Well, now they'll be joined by Perfect Jane Fairfax. Do you think they'll really come by the pool?"

"If you didn't want them to come, you shouldn't have invited them. I hope they will be there, and I hope you'll be as kind to them as I know you are."

"Wow, Anne. Way to go to the mom place."

"Someone's got to do it."

"In that case, I'll let you buy me lunch."


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

By 2 o'clock on the 4th of July, the thermometer on the back door of the Woodhouse home read 86 degrees Fahrenheit. Emma was staying cool under the pergola while she thumbed through the latest issue of _Health Economics_. Her navy blue swimsuit was covered by a white gauzy tunic and red running shorts, in a nod to the holiday. On her left was a glass of lemonade, the condensation creating a ring on the side table next to her lounge chair. She lifted her eyes to watch over her sunglasses as George approached from the side of the house.

"Hey stranger." Her smile was easy. "Done with business?"

George had been sequestered with Mr. Woodhouse for the last hour, debating a client with a new hotel in New York. His response was warm as he squinted against the bright outdoors. "Yeah. I think we're moving forward. Your dad isn't entirely convinced that the location is safe enough that it won't cost us in the long run, but the premium is so high that he's willing to take the risk. Can I borrow that?"

Without waiting for her answer, he snatched the baseball cap off her head. He laughed at her mock indignant look.

"You'll be fine. You've got your sunglasses. Have pity on my poor fair complexion."

Emma self-consciously checked that her hair was held securely in its bun. "Please. I burn more easily than you. Remember that picnic last year? I was a lobster by the end."

"Your skin matched your hair. Shouldn't you know better than that, Ms. Health Policy?" He nodded toward the open journal. "Partaking in some light reading, I see."

"An interesting article on neonatal care in Norway. It's giving me some ideas about refining the interventions at the Academy." She waved a hand at the empty space beside her. "You know, you could join me instead of looming."

George shook his head. "I think I want a dip in the pool first. You coming?" He reached for the hem of his NYU t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He dropped the shirt on the chair next to Emma.

Behind her sunglasses, Emma was distracted by the view of George's chest. She knew he ran regularly, but hadn't really ever appreciated how it kept him slimly defined. His chest had a sprinkling of hair, which ran down to his navel. If she looked closely, one or two of his chest hairs glinted silver. Emma's brain stuttered to a stop. _Yum._

She realized he was speaking, but had no idea what he'd said. "Huh?"

"I asked if you were coming with me to pool. You know, that hole in the ground filled with water over there? It currently appears to be inhabited by donut floaties."

"Oh." Embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming, she got to her feet. "Yeah. Sure. Let me just grab my suit."

George cocked an eyebrow. "As opposed to what you're currently wearing?" Emma looked down. Of course. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

 _I'm_ not _sure._ "Yeah, I'm fine. The heat is getting to me. Let's go for a swim."

* * *

The hot afternoon had given way to a warm evening. Emma and George had been joined by Anne and Charles; the group was indulging in a game of bean bags with beers in hand. Mr. Woodhouse and Rose argued over the right time to flip burgers on the grill.

Such was the scene when Alicia Bates and Jane Fairfax came to call. Emma was the first to notice the twosome. She excused herself from her game and crossed the patio.

"Alicia! Jane! I'm glad you decided to stop by." Emma traded air-kisses with both. "Jane, it's so great to see you again. I hear you're going to be starting at Yale."

The brunette gave a small smile. "Thanks for having us. And yes, I'll be starting in August."

"Which program was it again?"

"International and Economic Development." Jane didn't offer more.

"I'm familiar with a few of the faculty – they overlap with some of the Health Policy folks. Are you planning any research?"

"Perhaps. We'll see."

A pause while Emma waited for additional details. Not sensing any forthcoming, she asked, "When do you think you'll get to New Haven? We should do drinks."

"Soon. I'm just staying with my aunt and grandmother for the moment." Non-committal.

Emma mentally winced. Why was having a conversation with Jane so hard? She noted the intricate woven pattern on the other young woman's straw bag. "What a gorgeous tote you're carrying."

"Thanks. It's from Cambodia."

She was relieved when Alicia jumped in. "Jane was in Cambodia for four years, you know. We are so glad she's with us now. Doesn't she look great? That tan is to die for."

Jane patted her aunt's arm. "Auntie Alicia, I'm sure Emma isn't interested in my skin tone."

By now, the others had caught up. Hellos were being exchanged – Emma gracefully (and gratefully) stepped back to allow them to catch up.

Alicia, who had noticed her retreat, also drew aside to continue the conversation. Emma was trapped by the woman's good intentions. "I've already brought Jane to say hello to all the shops in town. We made stops at the bookstore – you know, the one with the little displays each season? – and the cheese shop. Oh and the wine shop, because we wanted to bring something with us. But oh dear, I can't believe I'm just realizing – we forgot the wine! Oh how silly. And you know who we ran into at the wine shop?" It wasn't a question. "Elton Cole! He had his pretty new girlfriend with him. Tracy or Tricia or Trixy or something. He's a close friend of yours, isn't he?"

Emma stilled. So Elton had already moved on. She was relieved that he was apparently unaffected by her rejection. And yet, a flash of annoyance. Apparently, Emma Woodhouse was easy to get over.

"I wouldn't say he's a particularly close friend, would you, Emma?" George had wandered over. The glint in his eye was mischievous. "But I think she'd be happy to know he was paired off."

So he knew. Of course he knew. "I'm so happy to hear Elton's news that I'll even forgive you for speaking for me."

Alicia clapped her hands, enthusiastic for her audience. "She's from New York – Long Island, I think she said. They met at the gym. Her father actually owns a few of them. Fancy places, with massages and juice bars. I tried the one in town a couple of years ago on one of those day passes. Really luxurious, but not for me, you know. We're simple people. Mother does her Zumba and I have my yoga."

"Well, to each their own," replied George. Sensing some discomfort from Emma, he turned to her. "Hey, I think Rose is done with burgers. Should we go give her a hand?"

As they walked away from the group still getting reacquainted, George lowered his voice. "What's with the Marcel Marceau routine?"

Emma shrugged. "I just didn't have a lot to say, I guess. Jane Fairfax is our main event tonight."

"Are you _jealous_?"

"So not. And anyway, I'm more worried about telling Hannah about Tracy or Tricia or Trixy."

"That's not going to be fun. But at least you don't have to date him."

"Thank God for that."

A pause from George. "Can I say it?"

"Fine. You get one."

"Then I better make it a good one. Emma Woodhouse…I told you so."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

At noon the next day, Emma was grading papers when the doorbell rang. Coming down from the study, she was pleasantly surprised to see Anne and a man about Emma's age at the front entrance.

Anne was all smiles. "Emma, I wanted you to be the first – besides his father and me, of course – to meet Frank. Frank, this is Emma Woodhouse. I'm sorry we're dropping in on you like this, but Frank surprised us at the house this morning."

Frank Churchill had laughing ice blue eyes and a permanently scruffy chin. His warm blonde hair was cut a little shaggy in a manner suggesting California casualness. His mouth curved into a smile as he greeted his hostess. "The famous Emma Woodhouse. My dad and Anne have told me so much about you."

Emma found his smile infectious. "All good things, I hope. You just arrived from Berkeley?"

"Kind of. Just drove in this morning. I was going to come sooner, but then a couple of buddies of mine decided to take a last minute trip to Thailand, and I thought, 'Why the hell not?' You only live once, right?"

"Frank's been driving for the better part of the week to get here. Imagine our surprise when he showed up at 4am."

Emma wasn't so sure that was a virtue, but Anne's delight with having Frank in Hartford was clear. "Do you have time to stay? I could see if we have a few beers leftover from yesterday's festivities."

Frank's grin was familiar, even though they'd just met. "I bet I could help with that."

* * *

Emma's phone chimed while she was pulling glasses from the freezer.

 _Hannah: OMG SOS!_

Concerned, Emma set the tray down. _What's up?_

 _H: Ran into Robbie and sister at Mac's._ The café was a popular spot for lunch next to the Academy. Another chime.

 _H: He asked me to hang out. I couldn't say no._

At least everyone had all their limbs. _How is it?_

 _H: Awkward. They're being so nice to me._

 _E: Where are they now?_

 _H: He's in bathroom. She's feeding her meter._

 _E: Do u want rescuing?_

 _H: Just ordered. Too rude?_

 _E: Prob. Want me to call in 30 min?_

 _H: THANK U!_

Emma set an alarm on her phone, grabbed the tray with beers and glasses, and headed out to join her guests on the patio.

* * *

25 minutes later, Emma was pretty sure she was developing a crush on Frank. He was currently regaling them about hiking in Thailand. "Yeah, we made friends with a few locals who took us up in the mountains to visit with their families. The women wore these really elaborate headdresses – it was like something out of National Geographic. They really rolled out the red carpet. Made us a banquet meal and everything. I couldn't even tell you what everything we ate was, but it was one of the best meals of my life."

Emma was enthralled. "How long did you stay up there? I've always wanted to go to Thailand, but I haven't had a chance."

"We were in Chiang Mai for a week and spent another week at Amanpuri in Phuket. Amanpuri was nice, but I prefer authentic experiences, you know? Really getting to know the people and the places."

Emma nodded. "I completely agree. Tourist traps are an absolute nightmare."

"Oh, Emma, you sound like such a snob." Anne's teasing was gentle.

Frank was quick to defend. "But she's right! So many of these places have sold out to the hordes of Western tourists. It's a shame, really. We could learn so much from their cultures."

Emma's crush became official. Her totally subtle gazing was interrupted by her phone's alarm. _Call Hannah._ "Will you excuse me? I have to make a quick call. Be right back."

As she let the phone ring on Hannah's end, Emma watched Frank and Anne from behind her sunglasses. He looked like someone who was at ease in any environment. He was handsome for sure, but more importantly he seemed curious about the world around him. That was a plus in Emma's book. She wondered if they might have dinner with Anne and Charles so she could get to know Frank a little better.

Hannah's voice came on the other end. "Hi! What's up?"

"I'm calling to see how you're doing. Do you need a rescue?"

"Yeah, hang on." Muffled: "Sorry guys, let me take this."

Emma waited until Hannah's voice returned.

"Thank God you called. I'm so confused."

"Why, what's going on?"

"I don't know. I feel like Robbie is being way too nice to me. And his sister is super sweet too. Do you think she knows that we had a thing?"

"Maybe. But does it matter? Do you feel like staying at Mac's any longer?"

"What do you think I should do?"

"Well, you wouldn't want to lead Robbie on, right? If you haven't changed your mind about dating him."

"Right. But he's being so nice. I feel like I should stay to be polite."

"No, it's better this way. Trust me. You can tell them that your friend's dog walker cancelled at the last minute and she asked you to pinch hit." Even as she said it, Emma knew it was a lame excuse.

"Okay. You're right. Thanks – I don't know what I'd do without you."

As they hung up, Emma couldn't help but feel bad for Robbie. He was a nice guy. Totally wrong for Hannah, but still nice.

When she returned to the table, she was slightly dismayed to see Frank and Anne rising to leave. "Heading out?"

Frank gave her an apologetic look. "Yeah, sorry. I promised a friend from Berkeley that I'd stop by to say hi. I think you know Jane Fairfax?"

"Oh, of course. She's everyone's favorite." Anne raised an eyebrow raised at Emma's flippant remark.

Frank laughed. "Not a fan?"

Emma was embarrassed to have been caught. "No, she's lovely. Ignore me, my brain is all sorts of tired from grading." Suddenly, she had a stroke of genius. "Tell you what – we're getting a few people together for my birthday in New Haven next Friday. Group karaoke. It'll be terrible in all the best ways. Anne's coming." Anne nodded. "Do you want to join us?"

"Sounds fun. Here, text me your number."

After they departed, Emma opted to stay on the patio. Frank made her feel warm, but her stomach wasn't doing the flips that they had during her past crushes. _Look Ma, I'm a grown up._


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

Do-Re-Mi Studios was not the fanciest spot in New Haven, but it was BYOB and had private karaoke rooms that could comfortably accommodate 15 slightly tipsy people, a piñata, and a birthday cake. Emma was thoroughly enjoying herself as she watched a few classmates belt along to Pat Benatar. _We belong to the light, We belong to the thunder…_

George was topping up her glass with more champagne. "Enjoying the birthday so far?"

"The best. I have a feeling that 27 is going to be a very good year."

"Yes, young grasshopper."

Emma laughed. "Please. You enjoy living vicariously through me. And anyway, you're a young 35. When's the next marathon?"

"Not until the fall. I'm giving myself a little break from training while work ramps up. I'll get back on schedule soon. Maybe I'll drag you out with me sometime." George waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Maybe I'll let you." They grinned at each other.

Over George's shoulder, Emma spotted Frank Churchill entering the room…promptly followed by Jane Fairfax. Emma rose to greet the newcomers.

"Frank, you made it! And you brought Jane." Emma thought she did a decent job conveying happy surprise.

"I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, the more the merrier. Jane, I'm so glad you're here." They exchanged perfunctory welcome hugs. "Can I get you guys a drink or a slice of birthday cake?"

Jane smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, please don't go to any trouble. I can go grab something myself."

As Jane greeted George, who was still manning the champagne bottles, Frank leaned into Emma. "So I wasn't totally imagining things. Talk about a cold shoulder."

Emma turned puzzled eyes on him. "I have no idea what I ever did to offend her. She's so nice to everyone else." As if on cue, George burst into laughter at something Jane had said.

Frank's ever-present grin turned conspiratorial.

"Want some good gossip?"

Emma tried not to look too curious. "I suppose."

"You can't pretend with me, Emma Woodhouse. Word is that Jane left the Peace Corps because she was crazy in love with her field manager. Some guy named Derek."

"Where did you hear that?"

He shrugged. "A mutual friend from Berkeley. Anyway, Derek was dating, even got engaged to another person stationed with them. Then the fiancée broke it off. But by that time, Jane had already come back to the states."

"Scandalous. So are Jane and this guy a long distance thing?"

"I heard he was trying some grand gestures while she was in Rochester. Flowers, Omaha Steaks, you get the gist."

Emma giggled. "Don't underestimate the power of fine cuts of beef."

"Is that what it'd take to woo you?" Frank's look was suggestive.

"You have a lot to learn about women, don't you?"

They were interrupted by Hannah, who thrust a microphone in Emma's hand. "We're singing Spice Girls and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Emma gave Frank an apologetic look. "Duty calls."

* * *

Two hours later, the drinks had been drunk, the cake had been demolished, and the pinata had given up its goodies. Most of Emma's classmates had taken off, on to other bars or to tuck themselves into bed. Hannah and Emma watched as Anne and Frank leaned into Mariah Carey's _Hero_.

Hannah wondered out loud, "Is it weird that Anne is closer to Frank's age than Charles' age?"

"I don't think so. Anne has this weird ability to be both best friend and grown up at the same time. The whole family just kind of fits together.

"And anyway, what is everyone's obsession with age tonight? George seems to think I should be in pigtails and braces." _Speaking of George..._

She scanned the room. There he was, on a couch with Jane. They were sitting awfully close together. Emma watched as Jane laughed warmly at something George said. George reached out and touched her arm. Jane's hand covered his as she responded. Emma's eyes narrowed. Were they _flirting_?

She was brought back by Hannah's response to her rhetorical question. "I mean, it's your birthday. Of course age comes up. But it shouldn't. You look totally great for 27. How does it feel?"

"Not much different than 26. Funny how that works."

"I guess so." Anne and Frank hit the final notes. "I'm feeling a little Van Morrison. Wanna do Brown Eyed Girl before we get kicked out?"

In that moment, Emma was grateful for Hannah's love for chestnuts. She could use a little more silliness.

"Let's go. Anne and Frank can eat their hearts out."


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

The clock on Emma's oven read 7:03pm when the doorbell rang. Looking out her window, Emma spied George carrying takeout bags. _Right on time._

She buzzed him in and unlocked her deadbolt. He entered as she was opening a bottle of pinot grigio. "Hiya. Ready to feel really bad for Leo?" They were pairing Thai takeout with _The Beach_.

Emma nodded. "I still think it's one of the most underrated films in his repertoire. Plus, I get to ogle his naked chest for a good portion of it."

George grimaced. "You're twisted, you know that? I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"It's been ages since we did takeout and movie night. Stop complaining and go find it on the Roku."

His voice drifted over as he fiddled with the TV settings. "Karaoke for your birthday was a good time. I always enjoy making a fool out of myself in public."

"You hardly sang and it was a private room. I'm sure your reputation is in tact."

"Of course it is. Did you see how I killed it with the A-ha?"

"I'm not going to stroke your ego, George."

"Fine, then I'm not going to tell you how great your Natalie Imbruglia was."

Emma brought the wine and glasses over to the couch, where George had unpacked the food. "You thought it was great? I thought Jane's Celine was better."

"It was good. But Celine is an obvious choice. Natalie isn't given enough credit for how she shaped the 90s."

As she swallowed her bite of kua gai, Emma sensed an opening. "You seemed awfully chummy with her."

"Who, Jane? Are you implying something?" George seemed genuinely perplexed.

"I don't know. You guys just looked pretty cozy on the couch at karaoke."

"You're imagining things. I was merely being friendly. Whatever else, Jane is going to be around a lot in the future, both in Hartford and here in New Haven. Might as well be nice to the girl. And if anyone looked cozy, it was you and Frank."

The tips of Emma's ears turned pink. She'd been found out.

"So what? I'm single, he's single…"

George was examining his pad see ew a little too closely. He peered up at Emma. "You know I'm always looking out for you, right?"

"Of course."

"Frank is a nice guy – he'd have to be to have Anne and Charles' seal of approval. But I'm not so sure you and he would be good together."

"On what basis?"

"On the basis of I can't really put my finger on it. There's something a little reckless about the way he treats people."

Intrigued, Emma pushed for details. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you think it was a little rude that he put off moving out here for a trip to Thailand, then just showed up a month later? And he brought Jane around to your party without asking."

"He's just spontaneous. It's not like he doesn't have an open invitation with Charles. And he and Jane knew each other at Berkeley."

George sighed. "Okay. Just be careful, that's all."

Emma reached for George's arm and gave it a little squeeze. "I swear I know what I'm doing. Now, are we ready to watch Leo go mad?"

* * *

Movie over, Emma and George remained side-by-side on the couch to polish off the wine.

"Okay, you're right. That was better than I remembered."

Emma gestured with her glass. "I told you! He was coming off of Titanic. We just weren't used to indie Leo."

"So do I get to pick the next movie night?"

"I suppose fair is fair. Hey, why don't we do it at your place? It's not like you don't have the space."

George nodded. "I was actually thinking about inviting people over for a game night. What do you think?"

"I think that's a great idea. You rarely have people over. It's always just our family."

"They matter the most, don't you think?"

Emma raised an appreciative eyebrow. "Still waters run deep with you, don't they?"

"Stick around. You might learn something."


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

Seven years ago, George Knightley had gambled on a dilapidated little saltbox house on the edge of a lake in West Hartford for its miniscule beach and proximity to town. He had spent the time since restoring it here and updating it there, much of the work done on weekends when he wasn't at KW. The result was a modern New England home much like the man himself: thoughtfully conceived, with a restrained exterior, but full of charming details when (if) you were invited to enter.

In August, the cheerful black-eyed susans that Emma had helped to plant were in full bloom. She nodded at them in approval as she knocked on George's front door with a grocery bag of snacks in hand. Hearing a welcoming shout, she let herself in to find George rummaging in a closet off the great room. "Scrabble to warm up, then celebrity?" he asked.

"Works for me." She began setting out snacks next to the beers already chilling on the kitchen counter. "Thanks for inviting Hannah, by the way. I know you're not that close to her."

George shrugged. "She's a friend of yours. And anyway, I invited Jane and Frank, too. Might as well get to know some of these young'uns." The doorbell rang. "I guess it's show time."

* * *

Group Scrabble was getting competitive. George and Hannah had 120 points, Emma and Frank had 132 points. George's friends from NYU – Mark and Tom – had 136 points. Jane had opted out as a referee. George played 'IVY' on a double word score for 18 points. "Booyah. And we take the lead."

Frank eyed their tiles speculatively. CEPRSTV. To Emma, he murmured, "I've got an appropriate one." 'TERS-' "We'll add an E." He raised an eyebrow toward Jane, who was seated across from them. Emma giggled.

She took a second glance. "If we add the C…" 'SECR-T'

Frank nodded in approval. "Jane, as referee, what do you think?" He gestured for the other woman to take a look.

Jane appeared over their shoulders. Emma saw her smile dim, just a bit. So there _was_ something she was hiding.

Frank's voice was overly cheerful as he repeated his question. "So, what do you think? Should we play this word?"

"I think you didn't need my call." Jane's response was chilly.

"But of course we want your opinion. Your judgment is impeccable." Emma's eyes widened at Frank's remark.

"I'm not supposed to be approving moves. Just whether or not the words are valid."

Mark spoke up. "Hey guys, any day now."

Frank was unapologetic. "Right. We're playing SECRET. Triple score on C for 13 points. Suck it, George. Hannah, my condolences."

George didn't seem to appreciate Frank's levity, but Hannah laughed. "Oh, I'm terrible at Scrabble anyway. I never hit the double or triple word squares."

Frank toasted her with his beer. "Next time, we should play together. I'll give you all the credit."

Mark broke in again. "Tom and I will gladly use that E to make MAZE. 14 points, us. You guys are never gonna catch up."

* * *

They were getting into their second game of celebrity, and Emma and George were wowing the group with what Hannah dubbed their "psychic connection."

It was currently Emma's turn to describe. " 'Clever girl.' "

George didn't miss a beat. "Jurassic Park."

"The musician with the fancy hair."

"Harry Styles."

"British author, Playboy."

"Roald Dahl."

Mark called time. "That's 9 for your team. And we've reached the end of the suggestions."

Frank ruffled Emma's hair. "You're good at that."

"I'm only as good as the person guessing." She smoothed her hair back down. "Hannah's got pop culture chops. And George and I go way back. It gives us an unfair advantage."

The gentleman in question gave a little bow. "When you've been immersed in Woodhouse-speak for as long as I have, it starts to rub off on you. Anyway, it's your team's turn. Who's up to start the one-word round?"

Jane stood up and stretched. "I believe that's me. Will you pass me the names?"

Hannah flipped the timer. "Go."

"Blueberry."

Frank's response was immediate. "Willy Wonka."

"Mustache."

"Sean Connery."

"Berliner."

"JFK."

Jane and Frank's volleying was as quick as Emma and George's had been. Mark and Tom, also on their team, couldn't get a guess in edgewise.

"Nose."

"Sylvester Stallone."

"MORE?!"

"Oliver Twist."

"How well did you say Frank and Jane knew each other?" Hannah's question was whispered to Emma as the game continued.

"They were at Berkeley together, but I don't think they were close. He's good, huh?"

"Awesome, really. Oh, it's time." Hannah called it for the other team. They'd earned 11 points, taking the lead.

George congratulated Jane. "That was impressive. I can't think up references that quickly."

She blushed. "Sometimes, you just find a groove with someone, no matter how long you've known each other."

* * *

At 1am, back in New Haven, Emma was unwinding in bed with the latest issue of The New Yorker. Her phone dinged. George. _U left ur jacket here._

She set aside her magazine. _NBD. Game night was fun, but not the same as movie night._

 _G: Agreed. Fun seeing people, but 1:1 time is good._

 _E: Next Friday, then? Ur pick still._

 _G: Sure I'm not cramping ur style?_

 _E: Movie and takeout with one of my favorite ppl? Never._

 _G: Flattery will get u everywhere, Woodhouse._

 _E: ;) Good night. See you Friday.  
_

 _G: Sleep tight._

Emma smiled to herself. She set her phone down and turned off her bedside lamp.

A few minutes later, another ding. Emma thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of her. She sat up to look at her phone. It was from Frank. _Hey u up?_

She figured it was only polite to respond. _Yeah, about to head to bed._

 _F: Something came up, and I gotta go back to CA for a bit._

 _E: For a good reason, I hope._

 _F: Nothing's good if I'm 3000 miles from New Haven._

Emma wondered what her response should be. She wasn't disappointed that he was leaving town, merely indifferent. Odd. Maybe that crush had passed. And maybe, just maybe, George had been a little bit right about her and Frank.

 _E: We'll still be here._

 _F: I liked seeing u tonight. Dinner when I get back?_

It wasn't clear if he was asking her out. Nevertheless, Emma tried for a neutral response.

 _E: When will that be?_

 _F: Not sure. Hopefully before my dad's wedding._

 _E: Maybe I can get people together when u know. George, Jane…_

 _F: Sounds like fun. Ur friend Hannah was sweet._ If he was disappointed at her deflection, it didn't come across in text.

But then a light bulb went off in Emma's head: Frank and Hannah. It made total sense. Frank's sense of adventure would pair perfectly with Hannah's ability to find wonder in everything. With a new sense of purpose, Emma sent her response. _I'll make it happen. Safe travels._

 _F: Thanks. I'll text you from CA._

She knew Frank's promise was empty, but it didn't bother her. Satisfied with Frank and Hannah's future, Emma pulled the covers back up, and went to bed.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

Emma had just finished lunch with her father at the club, a luxury for both parties, but especially Emma as the descent into fall term madness loomed large. Having accompanied her father back to his office, she strolled down the familiar hallways at KW Insurance, only to stop and knock at George's open door. He looked up at the intrusion, and the brief scowl on his face was replaced with his deep warm smile. "Hey Woodhouse. What are you doing here?"

"Dropping mon pere off after lunch. What are you doing here?" Without waiting to be asked, Emma plopped herself into the visitor's chair facing George's desk.

"Haha." George's tone was sarcastic. "Actually, I'm glad you stopped by. Wanted your opinion on something."

"Shoot."

"Well, I just got off the phone with Jane Fairfax. She's working on creating a hybrid non-profit for-profit model with a group of women in Cambodia. Something about traditional woven baskets." Emma recalled the tote that Jane carried on the 4th of July. It _was_ gorgeous.

George continued. "She thinks they'd be huge in the States, and wants to help the women that weave them get set up to sell them. A portion would go to a non-profit arm to direct community projects. She asked if I would be willing to invest a little start up capital."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I'd think about it. I can certainly afford what she's asking. But you know more about these things...do you think it's worth investing?"

"It's an interesting thought. There's a huge movement toward quality over quantity, and a premium for ethically made goods. My two cents? She may want to eschew the usual fair trade shops to avoid getting pigeon-holed. I've seen an example of the work. I think it'd do great in e-commerce, and speak to the current minimalist, buy it for life trend. She could try a pop-up in the city with a like-minded boutique. Get some advanced orders, too, to fill the coffers." She realized she'd been rambling. "I've said way too much, haven't I?"

"This is why I asked you. Someone else might have given me a yes or no answer. Instead, you've outlined a whole plan."

"Me and my big mouth. If you think Jane would appreciate the advice, you'd better not tell her it came from me."

"Still not bosom buddies?"

Emma shrugged. "I don't know. I see how nice she is to others. She seems to single me out. Maybe she's jealous of my relationship with you."

"Me? Why me?"

"We've all seen the chemistry between you guys."

George gave an exasperated sigh. "Emma. I've said this once already. There is nothing between me and Jane. Stop trying to make something happen."

"If you say so."

"I do. Trust me, when something happens with anyone, you'll be the first to know." George's eyes were inscrutable.

"Don't feel like you have to send a report."

"I'm going back to ignoring you."

They both looked as Anne popped her head in. "Hail hail, the gang's all here."

Emma squealed a little as she hopped up to hug Anne. "Fancy meeting you here! What brings you back?"

"I was dropping off some forms for Charles." Anne's voice was muffled against Emma's shirt. "A little air, please?"

"Oops, sorry." She let go and stepped back. "I was just about to treat myself to a coffee from the cart in the lobby. Any interest?"

"Sure, I'm all set here anyway."

George piped up. "What about me?"

Emma gave him a pert look. "Nope. This is girl time. You can get your own cuppa later."

* * *

As they waited for their coffees - a cortado for Emma and a double macchiato for Anne - the older (only slightly, thank you very much) woman turned to Emma."The Marcuses can't make it to Jamaica any longer. But we were wondering if you might like to invite Hannah."

"Really? You only met her this spring."

"Well, the two of you have become extremely close in the past few months, right?" Emma nodded. "And do you think she'll continue to be a big presence in your life?"

"She's a dear friend now, if that's what you mean."

"Well, in that case, she's on her way to becoming dear to me, too. So, if she can swing the airfare, she should come. The room's already paid for."

"I'll ask. You and Charles are really too nice, you know that?"

"Don't gush too much. We're inviting Jane Fairfax too."

"Oh stop. I was just telling George that I think I'd like Jane, if she'd ever let me in."

Anne's smile turned sly. "You know, I have a hunch. George and Jane."

Emma rolled her eyes as she paid the vendor and handed Anne her cup. "We all have that hunch. But, no. George just said so himself."

"The man doth protest too much, methinks."

"Which one of us is Queen Gertrude here? Remind me not to let you pay for my coffee, or any drink, anytime soon."

"As long as you'll be ready to drink my champagne at the wedding."

Emma raised her coffee cup in a mock toast. "If it's the last thing I do - it'll be my honor."


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

Emma took in the turquoise waters and lush tropical landscape as their plane touched down in Montego Bay. Her father sat in the next seat, unaffected by the beauty of their surroundings. "I hope you packed enough bug spray for this week. There's nothing worse than a bug bite."

Izzy, seated behind Emma, gave her sister's chair a little kick in response. Emma grinned. "A few bites won't matter. I can't wait to see Anne and Charles. The resort they picked looks gorgeous."

Jon's voiced floated towards them from behind Mr. Woodhouse. "Bites will matter if you get dengue fe—oof." Izzy elbowed her husband to stop his train of thought. Emma could hear Millie – seated on Jon's lap – giggle at the face her father had made.

As they grabbed their luggage, Emma looked back to check on Hannah. The brunette had snagged the last ticket on their flight, which was unfortunately next to the bathrooms. Emma watched as her friend struggled to pull her suitcase from the overhead bin. Within moments, a fellow passenger stepped up to help her. He had a forearm tattoo and plugs in his earlobes. Emma smiled as Hannah babbled her thanks, then rolled her eyes as the guy pulled out his phone and punched in what Emma could only assume was Hannah's number. _She picks them up like stray dogs._

The queue had caught up to Emma's seat, so she turned away from Hannah and her new admirer to deplane.

* * *

George was waiting for them when they made it to the arrivals hall. He waved them over to where he was standing with a tall stranger. "Guys, this is Harry. He's our driver for this week."

As Harry corralled luggage and herded the family toward the waiting van, George took Emma aside. "I have news for you. Elton Cole is here with his girlfriend."

Neither had noticed Hannah, who had come along side them. "Elton has a girlfriend?"

Emma's face was apologetic. "I kept meaning to mention it to you, but I didn't know how to bring it up."

"You knew? How long has he been seeing her?"

"Since at least the 4th of July. If it's any consolation, she sounds terrible."

George's nod backed up Emma's statement. "I met her briefly while I was settling in. She's a total snob," he added.

"You guys are just trying to make me feel better. Well, I guess I can't be too surprised. Elton was a nice guy."

George and Emma shared a glance. Emma spoke. "Frankly, I wouldn't worry about what Elton does. He doesn't deserve you. He may have been a nice package on the outside, but inside he's a grade A jerk. I was wrong to steer you toward him."

Hannah looked unconvinced. George spoke up. "Hey, as someone looking from the outside in, I can definitively say that you're too good for him. You love your work at the Academy, right?" Hannah nodded. "Can you imagine Elton ever crawling into a playhouse to settle an argument between Ricky Foreman and Grant Johnson over Mr. Potato Head?"

"Why do you know about that?"

"Emma told me over dinner last week. Although I'm still not sure how the fingerpaint factors in. Doesn't matter – the point is that you're a confident, poised young woman with a good heart, and Elton just doesn't compare."

Though she had been quiet during George's pep talk, Emma had certainly been paying attention. These were the flashes of George that she loved best. He was careful about who he called a friend, but once he'd made up his mind, he was always in their corner. Not that he would flatter – he was often truthful to a fault. For Emma, though, knowing this made his praise more valuable.

George's speech had its intended effect on Hannah. The younger woman scrunched her face in determination. "You're right. The thing with Elton is his loss. He's not going to bother me while we're here."

Emma gave a little cheer. "That's right." She gave Hannah a little push toward the van where the rest of the Woodhouse-Knightley clan was waiting. "Next stop, beachside paradise."


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

It had been a week of sunbathing, snorkeling, windsurfing, hiking, caving, rum runners, and piña coladas. Even Mr. Woodhouse had plenty to occupy himself with, having discovered the boutique resort's small library stocked with Ian Fleming novels and a private veranda shielded from bugs and sun. By the time Friday came around, Anne, Charles, and their merry band of very relaxed guests were more than ready for the main event.

Emma stood on her balcony staring out over the cliffs to the sea as she fiddled with her earrings. Her long emerald silk dress, held up by delicate straps which plunged to a deep vee neckline, made her skin glow in the afternoon light. As George made his way down the path, he stopped to admire the view. Emma was luminous. He was still about 30 yards from her villa when a golf cart, coming from the opposite direction, came to a halt under the balcony.

Frank Churchill hopped out. "Emma Woodhouse, aren't you lovely."

"Frank. I had wondered if we were going to see you this week. It's been too long." George noted that Emma's response was warm, but lacked intimacy.

"I got tied up in California. Have pity on me. Can't you see me drowning in meeting after meeting, day after day?"

"Well, I'm glad you made it. Anne and Charles would have been so disappointed if you hadn't been here."

"What about you?"

"Sure, me too. But it's really their weekend, don't you think?"

Neither had noticed George approaching from the other side of the path. "Hello, Frank. Just getting in?" They shook hands.

"Yeah – I was supposed to be here on Tuesday, but got called into an investor meeting. I was glad I could get a flight out this morning."

"Well, we're happy you're here with us now." George raised his head to look up at Emma. "Are your dad and Hannah ready to go? We've got about 20 minutes until the ceremony."

"Dad was tying his bow tie when I saw him a few minutes ago. Let me check. Door's open if you want to come in to wait." Emma smiled at Frank. "We'll see you out there."

As Emma went back inside, Frank turned to the other man. "Well, I better go get changed. Any idea which villa the Bates are in? With my change in plans, I'm stuck crashing with them this weekend."

"They're a few more cottages down. The one with the orange door and pink climbing flowers."

"Thanks, man." With a flourish, Frank hopped back in the golf cart and sped off.

* * *

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

A cheer went up as Anne and Charles shared their first kiss as a married couple. Hannah sighed as she watched them turn back to the little group gathered around them. "They look so happy."

Emma's response was wistful. "That's because they're perfect for each other. Their imperfections match perfectly."

"Why Emma, how sentimental." The teasing remark came from Frank, who was standing beside her.

"Hey, I'm allowed to be sentimental. Anne has been like a surrogate big sister to both Izzy and me."

"I suppose she's now my step-mom. That's a little weird."

"Only weird if you let it be."

"Oh, Emma is the expert on familial relationships." Frank's tone turned mocking.

"Of course not. I just know that Anne loves all of Charles Weston, unconventional family structures and all."

"So I'm unconventional now?"

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" Emma kept her tone light, but her eyes had narrowed. "All I'm saying is that Anne loves her family, even if we're not blood related. Full stop."

"Hey guys, they're coming this way." Hannah's observation helped to defuse the situation. "Let's go kiss the bride."

* * *

Emma took in the two long tables dressed for dinner on the veranda. Candles in hurricane jars glowed warm as the guests flitted in from the cocktail hour and chose seats.

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? This trip has been a dream, Emma, a total dream." Hannah, seated on Emma's left, sighed. "Thank you for inviting me. I can't believe how lucky I am to be here."

Emma appreciated her friend's sincere happiness. "Anne and Charles have generous hearts. You should be thanking them, but I'll be glad to take the credit in the meantime."

"Excuse me, hi, I don't think we've met." The two women turned to acknowledge their interloper. She was petite, blonde, and had on way too much makeup for the humid evening. "I have no idea how that can be, since Elton is _so_ close with everyone here at the wedding. I'm Natasha." She held out a manicured hand to Hannah, jangling with charm bangles. Hannah, caught by surprise, looked like she didn't know whether to shake it, kiss it, or just run away.

Emma jumped in. "Oh, you're here with Elton. How lovely. I'm Emma Woodhouse, and this is my friend Hannah Smith."

"Tasha, there you are – oh." Elton, who hadn't seen who Natasha – Tasha – was speaking with, drew up short when he recognized the pair. "Emma. Hannah. Good to see you." His tone indicated the opposite.

"Nice to see you, too, Elton. We were just getting introduced to Natasha. I'm surprised we haven't run into each other yet this week."

"This place is so _cute_ , isn't it?" Tasha used the word as a weapon. "My family prefers the bigger resorts where they plan everything for you. But I can see the appeal of roughing it."

Emma was quick to defend the Taylor-Weston's choice of venue. "I think it's charming. You could do everything or nothing at all, and there's no pressure. Plus, the cottages have so much character – so different from the anonymous chains. I don't know about you, but I prefer falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean over a nightly pool party."

Tasha shrugged, oblivious to Emma's mild irritation. "Yeah, but they really should bring your drinks to you on the beach, instead of making people walk up to the bar."

Emma didn't feel like analyzing the merits of their accommodations. "So how did you two meet?"

"El works out at my family's gym. We own the Matrix Fitness group." Tasha's raised eyebrow indicated that Emma should have been impressed by her statement.

Elton jumped in. "It's _super_ exclusive. The waitlist is two years long. Tasha and I met while I was grabbing an apres workout juice. We just instantly connected on all levels. I think it's because she's from New York. Sometimes, our circles can be so provincial, wouldn't you say?" His meaning was clear to Emma.

"Uh, that's nice. It's nice to meet you, Tasha. Wasn't that a nice wedding?" Hannah's sputtering indicated that she had understood him as well.

Emma smiled through gritted teeth. "We were just appreciating how incredibly generous it was for Anne and Charles to share this week with us."

"Yes, _some_ would consider it generous to even be invited." Elton didn't bother hiding his sneer.

"Hannah, Emma, there you are." George's timing was impeccable as always. He gestured to the seat next to Hannah, conveniently boxing out Elton. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Hannah nodded. While George's body language was nonchalant, his look was quietly reassuring. "Hannah, have I complimented you on your dress tonight? That turquoise reminds me of the ocean, which is appropriate given our surroundings."

"I mean, some would say that color is last year. But I think you're brave to wear it – and it looks so great on you!" Tasha seemed to think she was delivering praise. Emma, who had taken a sip of champagne, almost spit it out.

George took Tasha's bad manners in stride. "Well, last year's color or not, it's beautiful." Hannah hadn't said a word, but there was gratitude in her eyes. "Elton, I think I saw your parents down at the end of the other table."

Emma picked up on George's subtle message. _Move along._ She piled on. "We wouldn't want to keep you from them. It was nice to meet you Tasha. Nice to see you, Elton."

As they moved out of earshot, Hannah turned to George. "Thanks for saving me. You don't have to feel obligated to sit with us, though."

George's smile was kind. "Don't worry about them. And of course I'm staying. No better company here." His eyes met Emma's. Her heart swelled with affection for her friend.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**

As dinner wound down, Frank – seated at Charles' right – tapped his fork to his champagne glass. He stood, swaying just a little. Emma wondered if he was a little drunk. "I know my dad and Anne didn't plan for toasts, but I'd like to make one anyway. I'm like an honorary best man, right?" The group chuckled.

"As you all know, I didn't grow up knowing my dad in the conventional sense. But what we've lacked in quantity, we've made up for in quality. Over the years, as I've gotten to know him, I've taken away these three things – One, that he takes no bullshit." Emma threw George a side-eye at the mild profanity. It didn't seem fitting. "Two, that he appreciates beauty. And three, that when he puts his mind to something, nothing will stop him.

"That's why, when I first heard about Anne, I knew it was something truly special. Here was someone who could hold her own with my dad and keep him on his toes. And of course, she had to be beautiful inside and out. But most importantly, their relationship was something he would fight for. No matter how badly he might mess up, or how much he might deserve to be kicked to the curb. Because once we make up our minds, we fight no matter what."

Frank didn't notice the glances being shot around the table. Was he even talking about Charles and Anne anymore? Jane, conveniently on his other side, gave his arm a light tug as if to encourage him to sit down. "What? Oh. I guess I'm being told to wrap it up." He raised his glass. "Dad, Anne, I wish you all the best. Because goddammit you deserve it." With a single gulp, he polished off his champagne and sat with a thump back in his seat.

At the other table, Hannah whispered to Emma, "What was that?"

Emma was as confused as anyone. She looked over Hannah's shoulder at George. His expression reflected her own. "My guess is that he just had too much to drink. Happens to the best of us."

Her father, seated across from her, leaned in. "That Frank Churchill isn't particularly eloquent, is he? Perhaps I should suggest a speaking coach."

"I don't think a speaking coach would have helped in this case." Emma mimed bringing a glass to her lips.

Mr. Woodhouses eyes widened. "Oh."

Their mild gossip was interrupted by Anne and Charles. The exuberant bride reached to hug Emma. "Oh, I'm so happy. I wish everyone could be this happy."

Emma returned the embrace. "To misquote Jane Austen, 'Until I have your goodness, I can never have your happiness.' What brings you to our neck of the veranda?"

"I wanted to ask if you'd help us open the dance floor. They'll be sending us to our first dance in a moment."

"I'd love to." Emma snagged George - who had snuck back to the bar – by the elbow as he returned to his seat. "He'll dance with me."

"I will?" George seemed reluctant.

"Won't you? I couldn't imagine a better partner." She batted her eyelashes, half in jest.

He gave in easily to Emma's playful manipulation. "Of course I will, but only because Anne and Charles asked."

Anne clapped her hands in delight. "Look out for my signal. In the meantime, bottoms up!"

* * *

 _Wise men say –_  
 _Only fools rush in –_  
 _But I can't help –_  
 _Falling in love with you._

While Ingrid Michaelson crooned Elvis' immortal words, Anne gave George a little wink. He stood and offered his hand to Emma, who allowed herself to be pulled from her chair. As he drew her onto the dance floor, Emma sighed. "That was very dashing of you."

"Why Emma, was that a compliment?"

Other pairs were starting to drift onto the floor.

"Because I'm in such a great mood, I'll give you another. What you did for Hannah earlier was gallant."

"Elton is a miserable man. He and Tasha deserve each other."

"How undiplomatic." Emma's eyes danced merrily. "You mean you don't aspire to be a member at Matrix Fitness?"

"And be labeled a pretentious ass? No thanks. Hannah has done nothing to deserve their contempt. I'll admit that she's grown on me since we first met."

"You're a softie."

"Are you done teasing me? You're ruining a lovely moment." His tone was gentle.

Emma smiled. "How about one more compliment? You're a graceful dancer. Does that wound your macho ego?"

"Never. My parents would have loved to know that those cotillion classes paid off."

"Ah yes. Antiquated social rituals being useful in the 21st century. Food for thought."

They lapsed into silence while they gently swayed. From her position in George's arms, Emma observed the dancers scattered around the floor. Anne and Charles wore the bloom of honeymoon. Nothing could interfere with their happy moment. Hannah – sweet Hannah – had been cajoled into dancing by Frank, who was now dipping and twirling her in all sorts of patterns that she couldn't keep up with. Her joyous laughter floated over Ingrid's dulcet tones. Her father had taken a turn with Alicia Bates, whose pretty blush made her look younger than her 48 years. Mrs. Bates watched and murmured with Jane Fairfax; the elder woman's silver hair formed a halo backed by the light of the lanterns. Emma even had to acknowledge that Elton and Tasha, dancing on the far edge of the floor, seemed taken by the moment. She dropped her head against George's chest and closed her eyes.

The song ended; Bowie replaced Ingrid. _Let's dance…_ George pulled back, just a couple of inches. As Emma opened her eyes, she for once couldn't read the expression in his eyes. "Emma, I –"

He was interrupted by a small commotion from behind. Frank had dipped Hannah too far – the pair had toppled over onto the floor. Emma joined the other guests who had rushed over. She righted Hannah just as Jane was helping Frank to his feet. "Are you okay?" she asked her friend.

"I'm totally fine," Hannah replied easily. "My tailbone might end up a little sore, but it was worth it. That was so much fun!"

Certain that her friend hadn't sustained any bodily injuries, Emma turned to check on Frank. Instead, she was met by the sight of Jane pulling Frank toward the path that led back to the cottages. Alicia and Mrs. Bates brought up the rear. _I guess the party's over for him tonight._

By now, Anne and Charles had made it over to Hannah. "I'm so sorry," apologized Charles. "Frank seems to have celebrated a little too hard tonight. Are you hurt?"

As Hannah reassured their hosts that she was indeed intact and having a great time, Emma returned to George's side. "You were about to say something before the kerfuffle. Do you remember what it was?"

George shook his head. "Nope, the thought has passed."

She didn't fully believe him, but she accepted his answer. "Okay, then. Care to show me more of what you learned in cotillion?" She held out her hand.

He took it. "Fine, but you're leading."

"A perfect description of our relationship."


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**

Upon returning stateside, life in New Haven picked back up quickly. In addition to the usual juggling act – classes teaching, and research – Emma was slated to bring her thesis topic to her committee for approval. The added time writing and refining had taken its toll. Three weeks had passed since Anne's wedding and Emma had barely had time to wave hello to Hannah as they passed each other at the Academy.

So when Hannah had texted her insisting on a Saturday morning meet up, Emma had been happy to oblige. At 9 o'clock, with a fruit salad assembled and coffee brewing, Emma was more than ready for Hannah to get there with the pastries she had promised.

At 9:30, Emma was annoyed. She texted her friend. _Where r u?_

By 10:30, Emma was seriously worried. Her texts remained unanswered, her phone calls unreturned. She contemplated calling the police. Or maybe George. George would know what to do.

Her finger was hovering over the 'dial' button when her buzzer sounded. She raced to the window. _Oh thank God._ It was Hannah – accompanied by Frank.

Emma buzzed them in and rushed down to the landing. "What happened? Where have you been?"

Hannah apologized profusely. "Oh my God, I'm SO sorry. I got all the way to Marjolaine when I realized I had grabbed the wrong purse on my way out and I didn't have my phone or my wallet. So I decided to had to go home to get them and was about a third of the way there when I ran into Frank. And he was so nice – instead of making me walk the 10 blocks home, he walked me back to the bakery and paid for all the pastries!" She held up the slightly rumpled bag as a peace offering.

Frank was nodding enthusiastically. "It was my pleasure. Plus, now I get to see two of my favorite ladies."

Emma smiled. "We didn't see each other much at the wedding. Wanna stay to catch up?"

"Sorry, I have prior plans. But it was great to see you." He kissed Emma's cheek, then turned to kiss Hannah's. "Lovely to see you, too. We should hang out soon." Emma warmed at the sight of them together.

As Frank let himself out, Emma ushered Hannah into the apartment. "As much as I enjoy Frank's company, it's been too long since we got some girl time. What's new?"

Her friend screwed up her face in determination. "I have an announcement. Elton is a pretentious prick."

Emma laughed at the declaration. "I can appreciate the sentiment. So what are we going to do? Key his car? Egg his house?"

Hannah shook her head. "Ritual sacrifice. It's the only way to cleanse myself of his presence, once and for all." From her purse, she pulled out a small drawstring bag. "I have, in this bag, the last of the Elton artifacts."

"What's in it?" Emma was enjoying the drama of it all. Hannah was nothing if not earnest.

"Remember when he came over to your place?"

"Of course."

Hannah brandished a cocktail napkin. "Well, this is his from that night. I took it because it touched his glass, which touched his lips."

Emma's bark of laughter was involuntary. Her friend's face fell a little. "Come on. You know how insane that sounds, right?"

"I suppose."

"So what are we going to do with it?"

"Does that work?" Hannah pointed at the antique cast iron wood stove in the corner of the studio.

Emma grinned. "I like your style."

* * *

Full from pastries, the two friends sat under throws on Emma's sofa. The wood stove, having accepted their recent offering, crackled merrily. Emma took a sip from her now lukewarm coffee. "I'm still sorry about having pushed you toward Elton. There are such better guys out there."

Hannah shrugged. "It's ancient history. And anyway, I've moved on."

"Yeah?" Emma's eyes lit up. "I had wondered if you had. I also wondered if I knew who it might be."

"Oh my God, don't jinx it! We're taking it super slow. Well, I'm taking it super slow. I don't know how exactly he feels yet, but I'm pretty sure."

"He was great at the wedding, wasn't he?"

Hannah blushed. "The best. That's when I started thinking there might be something more."

"He's kind of a hero. Swooping in when you need a hand."

"I know. He was always just under my nose."

With a squeal, Emma lept across the sofa to hug her friend. "I'm excited that you're both realizing what's been in front of you. It's been so obvious." She drew back. "I won't say anything, I swear."

"Thanks. I think he's just waiting for the right time to make the first move."

"Well, don't wait longer than you want to. A girl has a say in the pace of her relationship."

"I know. You're always looking out for me."

"Of course I am. I'm so happy for you." Hannah and Frank. Perfect.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**

"Leave the gun, take the cannoli."

 _Crack._ Emma had banged her head inside the refrigerator where she'd been rooting around for stuffing ingredients. Rubbing the back of her head, she turned around to face George.

His expression was contrite. "Sorry, I didn't realize you didn't hear your dad let me in." He reached out and felt the small lump forming. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, it's okay. I'll take a little ibuprofen." Emma turned back to the offending appliance. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be slaving over a hot stove? It's Thanksgiving, after all."

"Nah, Rose shooed me out of the kitchen. _My_ kitchen. Said I was just getting in her way. I thought I'd come by to pick up dishes and silverware. Explain to me why we're doing dinner at my place, again?"

"You were the one who wanted to host things more often."

"I meant beers in the backyard. Bringing Thanksgiving to my house seems silly, when we've assembled here for years now." George opened a cupboard and began stacking plates on the kitchen island.

"It's not like you don't have the room. Plus, I think Rose loves to cook for someone besides my dad. You let her make mashed potatoes with butter, instead of the heart healthy stuff my dad insists on." Emma pushed his plates to the side to make room for her ingredients. "Are you in a rush to get back?"

"No, it's only 11. Rose told me expressly not to bother her for at least 2 hours. Do you want help?"

She looked skeptical. "When's the last time you used a knife?"

George tossed her an indignant look. "Whose stuffing recipe are you making?"

Emma relented with a grin. "Your father's, of course. You know my dad asks for it every year. It's sentimental, but I'm happy to make it. Also helps that it's tasty."

George nodded. "That's what I thought." Grabbing a knife and the cutting board, he nudged her with his hip. "Stand aside and let the master work." He started deftly breaking down a head of celery.

Emma rolled her eyes. "And to think you were annoyed with Rose."

* * *

By 4 o'clock that afternoon, Emma was ready to chew her arm off. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hope the Bateses get here soon."

Anne handed her a deviled egg with a side of disapproval. "Eat this. And stop whining. Alicia and her mother don't have a lot of family. It was kind of George to invite them."

Emma was chastised. She glanced across the open space at George, who was helping Rose put together a salad in the kitchen. Her father, holding Millie on his hip, stood watch while advising on the health benefits of olive oil-based dressings. "I know. And to him it's not a deliberate act of kindness. He's just big-hearted like that."

"Like what?" Frank appeared with two glasses of white wine, one of which he handed to Emma.

"Emma was just saying she hoped the Bateses arrived soon." Anne took a deviled egg for herself.

"Ah yes. The ever-entertaining Alicia Bates. Do you think they'll bring Jane as well?" Frank waggled his eyebrows mockingly. "She's always the life of the party."

Emma thought of George's growing fondness of Jane. "The more the merrier, I suppose." Uninterested in continuing the conversation, she excused herself. "I'm going to see if Jon and Izzy want help setting the table."

As she made her way back toward the dining area, Emma was intercepted by the host himself.

"Hey, got a sec? Wanna help me put drinks on ice?" He drew her by the arm with him toward the garage where they had stacked drinks earlier.

As they walked, Emma gave him a skeptical look. "This isn't just about refreshments, is it."

"Not exactly. But I have a hunch. Frank and Jane."

"What?"

"I think something's going on between Frank and Jane."

"Jane's not even here yet. How do you know?" She picked up a case of mineral water while George loaded his arms with bottles of wine and sparkling cider.

"Think about it. They knew each other at Berkeley. He stayed in their bungalow at the wedding. And I ran into them at Whole Foods last week. You don't go grocery shopping with just an acquaintance."

Emma's face dropped. _Hannah._

George rolled his eyes. "Don't look like that. It's not like you and Frank have anything serious going on."

"This isn't about me."

"Of course." He sounded unconvinced. "Just maybe don't flirt with Frank too much in front of others tonight, okay? I'd hate for you to look foolish."

"You're being patronizing." Emma's hackles were raised.

"I'm sorry if it comes off that way. I saw you guys getting cute, and I thought I'd mention my suspicions."

"When, just now? You're imagining things. Stop butting in. This has nothing to do with you."

"It does if you end up getting hurt."

Emma softened. "I can take care of myself, I promise." She nodded at the case in her hands. "This is getting heavy. Let's get back to your guests."

George sighed and followed her out of the garage.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24**

An hour and a half later, eleven hungry people sat down for the traditional holiday feast. George carved the turkey while others passed around sides. Garlic mashed potatoes, roasted green beans, sage and apple stuffing, green salad, corn casserole – the table staggered under the weight of its offerings. Mr. Woodhouse passed a basket of Charles' handmade bread to Mrs. Bates. Millie, on Jon's lap, was enthusiastically drawing designs in a scoop of baked sweet potatoes. Emma mused that the warmth radiating from the group invoked a Norman Rockwell painting.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Woodhouse commanded the attention of those assembled. "I suppose I'm not the host tonight, but I am your elder. So I'd like to suggest a tradition that you are all familiar with from previous Thanksgivings." He turned to Emma, seated on his left. "Would you begin by sharing something you've been thankful for in the past year?"

Emma thought for a moment. "I'm thankful for the health of my family, which includes everyone here."

Jon was next. "I'm thankful for this little tornado in my lap. I've learned so much since she arrived."

Then Izzy. "I'm thankful for the role model my father has been as we've become parents."

And so it went. Anne cherished the love she felt from those who traveled with them to Jamaica. Charles was grateful that his life partner and business partner could be one and the same person. Rose appreciated that the family she cared for was, for all intents and purposes, her own – and was furthermore thankful for her upcoming month off at the holidays. Frank, Jane, and Mrs. Bates all made sweet remarks about what the preceding year had given them.

It was Alicia Bates' turn. "Oh, I don't know what I'm thankful for. I could be thankful for so many things, I suppose. I mean, Jane's move to New Haven was heavenly for us this year. And Mother's health has been holding, so that's wonderful. And to be invited to Jamaica with everyone was lovely as well. And my yoga instructor said I should think about teaching – what a surprise! And—"

"But can you just pick one?"

Ten sets of eyes scudded to Emma. Her heart dropped. _I said that out loud._

Alicia reddened. "I suppose I'm just so full of thanks to be included in this group of people. That's enough."

George spoke up. "I'm thankful for the richness that every single person at this table brings to my life. No matter how long we've known each other, or in what way." When Emma dared to meet his eyes, they were full of disappointment.

Sensing discord, Mr. Woodhouse did his best to conclude. "And I'm thankful for this meal. _Bon appetit_."

* * *

The ritual of dinner had broken the tension at the table. But for Emma, the shame of her outburst dogged her. As everyone lingered over second and third helpings, she excused herself to set out dessert, all the while praying that George wouldn't follow.

She had no such luck.

"Emma—" He kept his voice low to prevent eavesdropping.

"No George, I don't need to hear it. I already know I messed up, all right?" Her words came out in an urgent whisper.

"How could you be so unfeeling?"

She turned defensive. "I just said I know I was a little short with her. But you can't deny that she goes on and on. Everyone was hungry. So sue me." Emma busied herself with arranging pies and cookie plates. If she looked at George, she'd cry.

"You're being petulant. So what if Alicia rambles a little. She's known you for you entire life, and has known your father even longer. You have to respect that."

Her head snapped up. "Stop. I don't need any more lectures from you today."

George noted the tears threatening to fall. He took a step toward her, but paused.

"George." Both heads turned at Jane's voice. She stood on the other side of the island with her aunt.

"I think we're headed home. Aunt Alicia isn't feeling so well. But thank you for a lovely dinner."

George stepped forward. "I'm so sorry. I hope it wasn't the food."

Alicia smiled wanly. "No, the food was delicious. I just ate too much, that's all." Her voice was small.

"I'll help you find your coats." With a reassuring hand on Alicia's shoulder, he walked them toward the coat closet, leaving Emma with the pies.

Izzy appeared at her side. "You okay?"

Emma sighed. "Yes. No. How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad. But I know you'll find a way to say sorry." A pause as Izzy considered her sister. "Are you? Sorry?"

"I am."

"Good. And Alicia forgives and forgets easily. Remember that time I spilled fruit punch all over her at the club?"

"You were nine and that was an accident."

"Yeah, but she was shielding that jerk Marcus Grange after he pulled my hair. It was collateral damage."

"Why, Izzy Woodhouse-Knightley. What kind of values are you teaching Millie?"

"Playground justice is real, Em. Believe it."

Emma chuckled. _I'm thankful for my family._


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**

By the Sunday after Thanksgiving, Emma was desperate to make amends. At 10 o'clock in the morning, armed with freshly baked spice muffins, she rang the doorbell at the Bates' bungalow.

As the seconds ticked by, Emma felt her anxiety build. What if no one was home? What if they saw her and decided not to answer? What would she say if they _did_ answer?

To her relief, Mrs. Bates answered the door. The elderly lady blinked once, then smiled as she recognized her visitor. "Emma – what a surprise. Was Alicia expecting you? She might have told me, but I forgot."

"No, actually, I hope you'll excuse me for dropping in on you like this. But is Alicia home?"

"She's out at a yoga class, but she should be home shortly." Mrs. Bates eyed the basket of baked goods. Emma knew she'd been found out. "Would you like to come in and wait until she gets back? I can make a fresh pot of coffee."

"Yes, that'd be nice, thanks. I brought spice muffins, baked this morning."

As Emma followed Mrs. Bates inside to the kitchen, she noted how cheerful and cozy their home was. Never having had the occasion to visit, she'd always assumed it would be cluttered and neglected. How wrong she'd been. The space was small, but smartly laid out with a few choice antiques whose patinas revealed a life well-lived. Art was interspersed with framed photographs on the walls – Emma thought she even recognized a Matisse lithograph signed by the painter. Hardwood floors were accented with intricately woven rugs in a riot of colors. A comfortable reading chair by the window was accompanied by a side table stacked with books. One was open on the chair; Emma saw it was Hemingway. She'd obviously interrupted.

Emma set her basket on the kitchen table and watched as Mrs. Bates went about brewing a pot coffee in their little machine. "How is this fall treating you? Any issues with your arthritis?"

Mrs. Bates grimaced. "A little. At my age, stiffness is sort of a given."

"My father began seeing an acupuncturist last year on the advice of his doctor. It seems to be helping." Emma realized that her unsolicited advice might be construed as rude. "I'm sorry if I'm being too nosey."

"No, dear – I've been wondering about acupuncture myself. My doctor suggested that I give it a try. I even asked Alicia if one of her yogi friends might have a recommendation."

"Would you like my father's acupuncturist's name? If you let her know we sent you, she'll give you the family discount." Emma made a mental note to mention it to her dad.

She was rewarded with a smile from Mrs. Bates. "That would be nice. It's an interesting thought, isn't it? You put a pin in the body and it heals itself."

"It just goes to show that try as we might, we still don't know everything about the human body."

"Is that what you're learning at Yale? That you don't know anything?"

Emma laughed. "I suppose so. The longer I stay in school, the less I know."

"Good." Mrs. Bates handed Emma a mug of coffee. "Curiosity keeps the mind young. Don't ever stop asking questions."

The front door opened and Alicia's voice floated toward them. "Mother? I'm home. You should have seen my _kukkutasana_ today."

Mrs. Bates winked at Emma. "In here, Alicia. We have a visitor."

"Who's here? Oh—" Alicia stopped at the kitchen entry. "Emma. It's nice to see you."

Mrs. Bates pushed her chair back and stood. "There's fresh coffee in the pot. I'll leave you two to catch up. Emma, don't leave without saying goodbye."

Alicia poured herself a cup of coffee while Emma wondered how to address the elephant in the room. Luckily, Alicia helped.

"Thanksgiving at George's was nice, wasn't it? His home is so inviting. He's done so much to update it. I remember when he first got it."

"I know he really enjoyed having everyone there. Well, perhaps except for me." Emma took a deep breath. "Alicia, I'm so sorry for cutting you off at dinner. It was completely rude and insensitive of me."

Alicia shook her head. "No, you were right. I tend to ramble on a bit. I wish I could correct myself, but by the time I realize it, I'm often so far down a path I never know how to stop."

"Please. I wasn't right at all. You've always been so incredibly kind to me and my family. I'd hate to make you think I didn't respect or value that."

Alicia gave a little titter. "All this apologizing is making me uncomfortable. Everyone can be unintentionally unkind from time to time. Dwelling on it makes it worse. I accept your apology – let's just move on. Are those muffins I see?"

"My way of groveling. I baked them fresh this morning. Should we share one?"

"Absolutely." Emma watched as Alicia reached for a knife and split a muffin in half. "In the spirit of moving on, how is Jane doing? We didn't speak much at dinner."

"Better, now that she's finally made a decision." At Emma's confused look, Alicia paused. "Oh, you didn't hear. Jane is leaving Yale. Seems like the program wasn't a great fit. You know our Jane, always wanting to change the world. Well, she's been doing a little work on the side with a group of women she knew in Cambodia. They weave baskets, you know. Beautiful things. Well, she's been organizing pop up events all over New York to sell their pieces. Next thing you know she's manged to convince a few people to invest in these baskets."

Emma recalled her conversation with George in his office in September. So he had passed along her advice. She wondered if Jane knew the source. Alicia was still talking; Emma tuned back in.

"—And next thing you know she's wondering if she should just focus on building this group. It's non-profit, you know. She'll have to find a partner to manage projects in the village. But what an opportunity! Imagine having such a huge responsibility at her age. And in Cambodia. But of course she'll be wonderful. She was there for four years, you know."

Emma gathered that Jane had forfeit her degree to focus on building the business. She had to admit it was admirable. "So when does she leave New Haven?"

"Not officially until January. But with the holidays, she won't be in town too much longer. We're all going to Rochester for Christmas – it's only a five hour drive you know – and then she'll be staying for New Year with my sister and her husband. We're going to miss her so much, won't you?"

"Of course. It won't be the same without her."

"Well, at least she'll be back regularly for weeks at a time. Imagine, all that flying back and forth. Well, she's young. You young people have such great constitutions for long flights. I used to love to fly, but not anymore. It's too bad, too. I'd love to go to a yoga retreat I found in Costa Rica."

Emma sensed a chance to change the subject. "Will you split another muffin with me? And could you tell me about your yoga studio? I'm thinking about switching it up a bit."

As Alicia started another of her winding treatises, Emma settled back into her seat. The other woman had clearly forgiven and forgotten. Emma knew how rare it was to find that sort of genuine acceptance.

That morning, there was nowhere else she'd rather be.


	26. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**

On a Wednesday morning in early December, Hannah and Emma were treating themselves to a leisurely coffee before heading to the Academy.

"How's writing?" asked Hannah as she took a sip of her latte. She grimaced from the heat.

"Bleh. I've had a skeleton version of my prospectus for awhile because of the paper we submitted to _Health Economics_ last year. I know what I want to say, but it still takes forever to put it down on paper. I have a meeting with my advisor next week to discuss, and I want to have my full set of metrics figure out by then."

"I don't know if I could do what you do. I'm just not smart enough."

Emma cocked her head. "Trust me, smart has very little to do with it. Plus, everyone has their strengths. You are so much more patient than I am with the kids. I mean, I love it when they're cute. But those tantrums that you break up – I'm in awe."

"Hey, if you had 5 siblings, you'd have lost all feeling in your shins too. Graham Williams can kick them all he wants, but he's not going to get a rise out of me by doing that."

"See? Everyone has their talents. Are you happy at the Academy? It's been, what, six months?"

"Seven. Emma, I love it. Robbie was even talking about promoting me to Lead Toddler Teacher as soon as a space opens up. He thinks Evelyn will retire next year. And you know I've been taking those night classes at GCC. I'm only two classes from finishing the Associates degree. I could be done by the summer."

Emma was surprised. She'd assumed that Hannah treated her classes at the local community college casually. But her friend was now talking about moving up and career growth. "Do you think you'll continue with classes after that?"

"I think so. There's so much to learn. And I met with a guidance counselor last week who said that if I maintain my grades, I could finish the Bachelors at UConn. They'll take all my credits and everything. I mean, I never even thought I'd go to college…What?" Hannah had caught the expression on Emma's face.

Emma hesitated a beat before responding. "Well- We've known each other for almost a year now. And I think I owe you an apology. I didn't realize how intent you were on making a career out of childcare."

"I don't think I did either. But then I met you and all your friends. And you're all just so impressive." Emma blushed. "No, really! You're going to be Dr. Emma Woodhouse. Everyone that you know is already so accomplished."

Emma didn't know what to make of Hannah's outright adoration, so she demurred. "Well, we can't pretend to have done it all by ourselves. I guess you could say we had strong role models."

"Yeah, and I want to be that for my own family someday. You know, it was Robbie who suggested I look into doing more than the Associates."

Huh. Good for Robbie. "I think he knows an opportunity when he sees one. You're great at the Academy. It's in his best interest to develop your career there. He's a smart guy."

"It's nice that we got past the spring. We've gone to lunch a couple of times since then, and it's really comfortable. I feel like I can share anything with him and it's not weird."

Emma smiled. "Everyone needs a mentor. And my hunch is that Robbie is a pretty good one." Her smile dimmed a little as she saw George walking into the coffeehouse. It was the first time she'd seen him since Thanksgiving. As he made a beeline for the two friends, Emma mentally prepared herself for the uncertain greeting.

Hannah beat her to the punch. "George! Hi!" She beamed as she waved from her seat.

"Hi Hannah, Emma. I was wrapping up with Robbie, and he mentioned you guys were here. I thought I'd stop and say hello."

"About the renovations again? I thought you said they'd managed to shift funds around to building out the extension." Hannah's question took Emma by surprise. When had they discussed this?

"It's good news this time. The contractor took a second look at the plans with the engineer, and it appears that the wall we thought was bearing can actually be moved easily. Sounds like we may get everything on our wishlist. I'm inclined to think of it as an early Christmas gift." George slanted a look at Emma. "Hannah, would you excuse us for a moment? I've got some family business to deal with."

Hannah peeked at her phone. "Actually, I should probably run." She got up to don her coat. "Emma, I'll see you back at the center. George, see you soon." She leaned in for a hug, then left with a wave.

Emma sat flabbergasted. When had Hannah and George become friends? Why hadn't she known?

George took Hannah's now vacant seat. "So." Emma never thought a single word could sound so loaded.

"So."

"I saw Alicia in town the other day. She told me that she had no idea that baking was among your many talents."

"I suppose."

George sighed. "Is this how it's going to be?"

Emma went on the defensive. "What do you want me to say? I made a mistake. I was sharp. Alicia's already forgiven me. Why are we still talking about it?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Emma. What I meant to say is I'm proud of you for making amends."

"Oh, so now you're 'proud' of me? Of all the condescending—"

"That's not—"

Her voice went deadly low. "No, you don't get to interrupt me right now. I know we've always had an age difference between us, but lately it feels like you're taking this older and wiser shtick a little too seriously. I have a dad, George, and a really good one. He's already taught me right from wrong. He trusts me to manage my life. My friendships, my relationships – they're mine. Yes, a lot of them are interwoven with you. But at the end of the day, if I stumble with someone, it's up to that person and me to decide how we recover. That's not for you, or my dad, or anyone else to judge. So if Alicia and I are good, we're good. I don't need you to pat me on the head for doing what any decent person would do."

Emma realized she had leaned across the table during her rant. She sat back and, taking a long drink from her coffee, looked George straight in the eyes, daring him to contradict her.

George had the good sense to look embarrassed. The air hung heavy between them. "Emma. I'm sorry if I've ever diminished your ability to handle your own affairs. I know you have everyone's best interests at heart." He smiled ruefully. "I've been a bit of an ass, haven't I?"

"You have."

"And can you forgive me for that?"

She looked down at her mug. "I suppose I could…"

"Emma." George sounded minorly exasperated.

She shrugged. "Okay, yes. Bygones and all that jazz."

"I'll try to keep the older and wiser shtick to a minimum."

Emma melted a little at that. "I'm not saying it's totally unwelcome. I always do want to know what you think. I just don't need you to beat a dead horse, you know? Especially when I've already gone eight rounds with myself over something."

George held up his right hand. "I solemnly swear not to beat a dead horse with you, unless you explicitly invite me to." He curled his hand, leaving his pinky extended. "Pinky swear?"

She gave in with a laugh and offered her own pinky. "Okay. I'm holding you to this."

As they shook on their new understanding, relief flooded through Emma. She had meant every word, but it surprised her to realize how much she still cared about his opinion. _I guess that's a side effect of a lifetime of friendship._ Clearing her thoughts, she asked, "My first appointment isn't until 10. Want to stay for a cuppa?"

George looked crestfallen. "I wish I could, but I have to get to the train. I'll be working from New York this week and next – year end, you know."

"Getting in some quality time with Jon and Izzy?"

"Until they kick me out. But I'm pretty confident I can earn my keep by watching Millie."

"Fine." Emma pouted. "I guess I'll just see you at Christmas then."

"Walk me out?"

"Sure. If you're not staying, I'm done here too."

Shrugging on her coat as she stepped into the brisk outdoors, Emma managed to catch her hair under her collar. Casually, as he had done scores of time before, George reached around and released the tangled strands, his hand brushing against the nape of her neck. Emma shivered.

"Cold?" He ran his hands briskly up and down her arms, warming her with the friction.

She nodded. "Guess so. December, you know."

George stepped in for a goodbye hug. Emma breathed in his familiar scent – soap, earth, and spice. Pulling slightly away, she rose on her toes to deliver a friendly kiss on the cheek. She missed. Her kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.

Emma jerked back, as if she'd touched an electric fence.

"Emma–"

George sounded amused, but Emma wouldn't – _couldn't_ – meet his eyes. "Right. Well, travel safe."

"I'll see you when I get back. Talk to you sooner."

"Yep." She looked up and gave him the barest of nods.

He gave her arm one more squeeze, then walked away. Emma watched him go.


	27. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27**

Emma leaned back in her desk chair, stretching as she contemplated the latest draft of her prospectus. She'd weave in the last bit of her advisor's feedback, then share it with her committee the week before everyone left for the holidays. _Almost there._ It'd be the best Christmas gift if she didn't have to think about school during the break.

Her phone pinged. She glanced over, expecting a text from George taunting her with pictures of Millie. He'd been sending occasional updates since they'd seen each other the week before. A selfie with Millie as she stuck her hand in his mouth, pulling his smile into a rictus. One of just Millie sleeping with Jon and Izzy's cat wrapped around her head. A snap of George wearing Millie's carrier, her beanied head sticking up out of the top of his overcoat.

 _Anne Weston: U there? I have news._

Huh. Not what she'd been anticipating. _Yeah, what's up?_

 _A: U know how Frank's been in CA a lot lately?_

 _E: Yeah, bc of his investors, right?  
Something happening w his company?_

 _A: That's what he said. Only half true.  
He's been taking Jane to meet his investors._

Three dots flashed, then stopped. Flashed again, then stopped again. Emma sensed Anne was struggling to tell her something. She wanted to put her friend out of her misery. _Just tell me._

Three dots again.

 _A: He and Jane have been dating on and off since Berkeley._  
 _They got engaged last week.  
They're moving to Cambodia together in Jan._

The world tilted beneath Emma, and not because of her chair. _I'm calling._

Anne picked up before the first ring ended. "I'm so sorry, Emma." She sounded remorseful.

"What? How?"

"Apparently, they've been together since her senior year of college at Berkeley. She almost broke his heart when she went to Cambodia. They reconciled and did long distance while she was with the Peace Corps. When she was admitted to Yale, he followed her here. It happened to work out that his startup friends in town wanted access to his investors."

"So they've been fooling around behind everyone's backs."

"I wouldn't put it like that. Actually, it sounds like Jane was the one unwilling to commit these past 6 months."

"And now?"

"He told us that he didn't want to lose Jane a second time to Cambodia. So he convinced his partners that they should do a few pilot projects there. He's going to set up Jane's co-op of basketweavers with a way to transfer funds to their families."

"And he proposed in the midst of this?"

"Well, I guess he wanted to make a big gesture to let her know he was serious."

"And she accepted."

"Yeah. I guess despite all the drama, she really does love him. He said it'll be awhile before they actually get married, especially since they're moving."

Emma privately thought it was brilliant. Maximum show for minimum effort. It sounded just like Frank.

Anne noted the silence on the other end. "Emma, you okay? I know you and Frank got kinda close while he was here."

"Yeah, I'm fine." It actually surprised her how 'fine' she was. "I think my interest in him waned around the time of your wedding. Good thing, in hindsight."

"George was worried about how you'd react."

"You told _George_ before you told _me_?"

Anne's voice was soothing. "I wanted his opinion on how to break it to you gently. I'm glad you're not too upset."

"I suppose. But can I point out that when we were all together, Frank spent a _lot_ of his time flirting with me in front of Jane? How rude is that?"

A sigh from Anne. "Yes, but if I'm honest, I think it's your pride that's hurt. Not your heart."

Emma's pout transmitted over the phone. "Fine. But it's rude all the same."

"Will you play nice when you see them next?"

"When will that be?"

"They're in Rochester with Jane's family for Christmas, then they'll be going to spend New Year with his mom and stepdad in Palo Alto. They'll be back in January for a week or so to say goodbye."

"How is Charles taking it? I can't imagine he was thrilled that this was all going on under his nose."

"Charles is easy. He just wants Frank's happiness. And I know you and Jane haven't been close, but she's always been kind to us and generous with her aunt and grandmother. Frank could do worse."

Despite their differences, Emma could appreciate and admire Jane's qualities. "Do you think he realizes he's marrying up?"

Anne laughed. "I'll make sure he knows."


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**

As Emma hung up with Anne, one thought loomed large. How was she going to tell Hannah that yet another love interest had found someone else? For that matter, how was she going to admit that she had, once again, steered her friend toward someone who had no interest in her?

The subject of Emma's musings happened to stick her head in the office door. "I'm running out to Mac's for a sandwich. Want me to bring anything back?"

"Are you in a rush? Got a minute?"

Hannah's face was quizzical as she perched on Emma's desk. "Whenever you say something like that, it seems like you have bad news."

"Maybe? I don't know. Frank and Jane are getting married."

A beat. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Frank and Jane are getting married. They've been dating on and off since they met at Berkeley. And they're moving to Cambodia next month."

"Frank and Jane are getting married?"

"Yes."

"And they're moving to Cambodia?"

"Yes."

"Wow. That's so exciting for them!"

Emma's head jolted up. She peered at her friend. That wasn't the reaction she'd expected to hear.

"So…you're okay with this?"

"Okay? Why wouldn't I be okay? Do you think they'll want visitors in Cambodia? I'd love a reason to plan a trip."

"I thought you and Frank were getting closer. Isn't that what you hinted at after Anne's wedding?"

Hannah giggled. "Frank is a nice guy, and plenty of fun to hang out with. But he was never someone I was interested in. I mean, he's kind of a showboat, isn't he? After Elton, I learned my lesson about showy personalities. Good luck to Jane, although I think she can handle him."

"Oh." Emma took a moment to process Hannah's remarks. Her friend was surprising her these days – and often. But that left an outstanding question: "So who were you _actually_ referring to? Any update?"

A blush. "Well, actually, George. But we're still taking it slow. We've been having coffee sometimes when he stops by here –"

More surprises. Emma couldn't hear over the ringing in her head at her friend's proclamation. _George?_ _George Knightley?_ How long had this been going on? Did he share Hannah's feelings? How could he keep this from her?

"—for Christmas. It could such a romantic gesture, don't you think? Emma?"

"Sorry. What did you just say?"

"Just that I was thinking I might get him something nice for Christmas. Has he mentioned anything that he wants?"

"No, not particularly." Emma hesitated. "Have you and George had any candid conversations about being more than friends?"

"Not yet. But you of all people know how much of a gentleman he is. He would never lead someone on. And I'm definitely feeling the sparks with him."

"And you're sure he feels them too?"

"Gotta be, right? Hang on." Emma watched as Hannah pulled out her phone and fiddled with it for a moment. "See? This has to mean something."

Emma examined the screen. It was open to text messages with George from October.

 _Hannah: Did u enjoy the wedding?_

 _George: Anne and Charles are the best._

 _H: I can't believe u saved me like that from Elton._

 _G: No worries. Anytime._

"What do you think?" Hannah wanted her approval.

Emma said nothing. Not without a little desperation, Hannah took the phone, scrolled, and thrust it back under her friend's nose. "And this."

 _H: U stopping by the Academy tomorrow?_

 _G: Yeah, meeting with Robbie._

 _H: Coffee after?_

 _G: Sure. Looking fwd to catching up._

Emma weighed her response. George's messages didn't seem particularly romantic. But maybe – as recent events had revealed – she wasn't as in tune with those around her as she thought.

"I think that if you have feelings for George, you should be sure of his before making any moves. I don't want you to get hurt."

Hannah's face dropped. "You don't think he feels the same way."

"I didn't say that."

"But you implied it."

Hannah took silence as agreement.

"You have no idea what it's like when it's just the two of us. And anyway, what do you know? You tried to hook me up with Elton and thought I wanted to be with Frank. No offense, but I think your matchmaking instincts have been pretty off."

Emma had to concede the point. "I have no idea how George feels. But you yourself said that he'd never lead someone on. If he hasn't given you any indication…" She trailed off.

Hannah looked as if she might cry. Or scream. Either way, Emma knew she'd upset her. But try as she might, she couldn't bear to mislead the other woman. "I'm sorry. I can't give you the answer you're looking for."

"I have to go."

"Hannah, don't–"

"I have to go," she repeated. Emma watched as her friend pushed herself off from the desk and took two uneven strides toward the office exit. The door rattled as Hannah closed it behind her.

Emma let out a shaky sigh. _How did they end up here?_


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**

That evening, Emma found herself alone on her couch, a glass of wine in her hand, and a nature show on, unnoticed and unwatched as she replayed the events of the day in her head. _Frank and Jane. George and Hannah._

Truth be told, Frank's deception didn't bother her. That ship had sailed long before George had pulled her aside at Thanksgiving. Let Jane deal with Frank. At least she seemed to know exactly what she was getting into. Emma couldn't imagine feeling secure with someone who used flirtation and jealousy to get their way. Perhaps Jane's unflappable personality was the balance Frank needed. Hannah had it right: _Good luck to Jane. She may be the only person who can handle him._

But Hannah. And George. Hannah and George. Could it be? How could she have missed it? They had been spending time together without her. And George didn't waste time with people who didn't interest him. He himself had said that Hannah had grown on him. George would have mentioned romance to her, wouldn't he? Had he ever hinted that he was getting closer to Hannah? Emma couldn't remember.

How many times had he sat with her on this couch, over takeout and a movie, all the while harboring feelings for her friend? And, while she was at it, why did it bother her so much that Hannah and George had happened right under her nose? She should have been ecstatic that two of her friends had found each other. It wasn't as if Hannah wasn't worthy of George's affection. In fact, George couldn't have picked a sweeter, kinder person. But...

...But what about _her_?

Emma snapped upright in her seat, sloshing wine in the process. Where had that come from? The thought had bubbled up unexpectedly from the dark recesses of her mind. She tried it on for size.

George swaying with her on the dance floor at Anne and Charles' wedding.

George looking at her with fond annoyance as she hovered over him making stuffing at Thanksgiving.

George teasing her with his twinkling blue eyes by the pool on the Fourth of July.

George comfortably arguing with her over the merits of their latest movie pick.

George sending her an amused grin across the dinner table as her father ran on in his latest swirl of worry.

Emma frowned. Apparently, she had saved up a lot of moments with George. How would that change if George and Hannah started dating? No more movie nights on her couch. No more casual drop-ins at the Woodhouse home. No more open door policy at his little house on his little lake.

The last thought made her grimace. It was just...wrong. She had planted those flowers in front. She had helped repaint that shed. She had tiled that kitchen backsplash. It was George's house, but Emma had helped him make it a home. She couldn't let go of that familiarity. She couldn't let go of George.

 _She couldn't let go of George._

Good God.

She _loved_ George.

She was _in love_ with George.

And George might have feelings for Hannah.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. The world was beginning to spin. She wasn't sure if it was the wine or the side-effects of revelation.

Had the messages that Hannah shared sounded romantic? Emma truly hadn't been able to tell. What did Romantic-George even sound like? Everyday-George was straightforward, if not a little too honest sometimes. But maybe that was the point. George was simply George, no matter the circumstances. Could Hannah appreciate that?

She replayed their conversation in her head. _He would never lead someone on. You have no idea what it's like when it's just the two of us. Your matchmaking instincts have been pretty off._

Perhaps Hannah knew George better than Emma gave her credit for. And, if George truly had feelings for her friend, Emma had no choice. She would support them. No matter how much it hurt her. Because, at the end of the day, that's what friends did.

Even if Friend A had just realized she was hopelessly in love with Friend B.

Emma opened her eyes. Her head hurt. She pulled her throw blanket up to her chin. Maybe some mindless television would help clear her thoughts.


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**

 _Knock._

Emma felt herself being pulled from the depths of slumber.

 _Knock knock._

Groggy, she looked at the clock on her cable box. 12:27 am. The television was still on, an episode of a long-forgotten sitcom playing out on low volume.

 _Knock knock knock._ "Emma? Are you there?" _George._ What on earth was he doing there?

Emma unfolded her body from the couch. Absently rubbing her neck – it was stiff from the position in which she dozed off – she walked toward the front door.

As she was halfway there, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Their eyes collided.

Emma's pulse raced. George was here, as if she had summoned him with the power of her thoughts. What was she supposed to say now? _I love you. Please don't choose Hannah. I want to make you happy. Just be with me._ She settled for, "You know that key is for emergency purposes only."

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, maybe not an emergency, in the standard sense. But your lights were on." She continued to stare at him in her doorway. "Um, can I come in?"

His question broke through the haze in her brain. "Oh! Of course. Mi casa, su casa, you know." She turned toward the kitchen. "I'll make some tea. Do you want any? I have green tea, peppermint, chamomile-" George's hand closed around her wrist, preventing her escape. She shivered at the contact. Instantly, her mind flashed back to the morning in front of the coffee shop. _Why does that keep happening? Stupid traitor wrist._

"You haven't asked me why I'm here."

Emma stared, dumbfounded, at his hand touching her. She heard him sigh.

"Emma, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Spoken too quickly. George was sure to know something was up.

Sure enough, doubt danced across his face. "Anne called me earlier. About Frank and Jane."

"I know."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how disappointed-"

"I'm fine."

George paused at her response. "You...are?"

"I am."

He let go of her wrist to rub his hands over his face. She wanted to cry out at the loss of contact. "Is that true?" His words were muffled by his hands pressed against his eyes.

"Absolutely. I know you won't believe me, but my interest in Frank passed a long time ago. It never got past a superficial crush."

George dropped his hands to look at her. Emma realized he suddenly seemed unsure. Her hands itched to touch him, to reassure him. Instead, she busied herself with filling the tea kettle. It was easier to speak when she wasn't looking at him.

"I'm not that naïve, George. Even I could see that Frank was an outrageous flirt. I didn't know that he was trying to make Jane jealous, but in hindsight, it's crystal clear." She peeked at him. He was contemplating the floor, arms crossed as he was lost in thought. She continued, "You know, I actually think it's a great match? For him, anyway. I hope he'll make her happy."

George snorted. "Cut the crap, Emma. Jane is too good for him, and we both know it. Frank comes to town, mooches off of Anne and Charles, charms all the single ladies, and gets to marry Jane in the process. He gets everything, and everyone else gets scraps."

"Careful. You almost sound a bit jealous." The kettle whistled. Emma turned to pull it off the stove. The kitchen was silent, save for the sound of mugs being filled with water.

"Well, maybe there's something to be jealous of." George's tone was cautious. _Oh God,_ Emma thought. _Did he know she had tried to push Hannah at Frank? Was he going to confide in her about his feelings for Hannah? Was it the end of them? Please don't let it be the end of them._

She raised her eyes to meet his. Her face must have revealed her panic.

"You look like you don't want to hear what I have to say. To be honest, I don't know if I want to say it. Some things, you can't take back."

"Then don't. Don't say anything that you think you'll regret."

At Emma's response, George's shoulders dropped. He gave a big sigh. "I see." He turned toward her front door. "I guess I should go. It's late."

Every fiber of her being wanted to yell, 'STOP. PLEASE DON'T GO.' Spontaneously, without thought, the words leapt from her mouth. " _No_. Don't."

George stopped. Emma seized her opportunity. She couldn't give him a chance to walk away. "We've always been honest with each other. If there's something that should be said, we've always said it. I just broke that promise to you. Please, as your friend, I'll listen to anything you have to say."

"As my friend." She was surprised by the bitterness in his voice. "We're _friends_ , aren't we."

"Aren't we? No matter what else…aren't we?"

"That's the problem, Emma. You just want to be friends. I…" He seemed to steel himself. "I don't want to do this any longer. What is it going to take to make you _see_ me?"

 _What was that?_ Carefully, she raised her eyes to meet his. Silently, she willed him to go on.

"I've tried to be patient. But I feel like I'm past the point of no return on this. Emma, I have your friendship. But what would you say if I wanted more?"

Emma couldn't speak. How could she, when the world had shifted under her feet? How did you respond when everything you wanted, everything you had pinned your happiness on, was suddenly handed to you in one single sentence?

George seemed to perceive that something big – tremendous – wondrous – was happening inside her. Gently, he reached out to take her elbow. Emma, transfixed, stepped forward into him. _Don't move too quickly. You'll wake up._ She came to rest with her head on his chest, his arms surrounding her.

He chuckled. Emma felt it vibrate through her, creating warmth everywhere it touched. "You're still not saying anything. But you're not running, so I have to assume that somewhere in there you're okay with this development."

George paused, as if he were giving her time to disagree. _No chance of that._ "Here's the thing – you know me. I'm not glib. I'm not smooth. All I can say is exactly what I think. And I know that – with some frequency – that lands on you unfairly.

"But somehow, you're still here. You _get_ me like no one ever has, and I can't imagine that anyone else ever will. And when I look at it from all angles, I can't help but come to the same conclusion. We belong together.

"And far be it from me to suggest that we wouldn't be just fine living our separate lives. You're awe inspiring, Emma. You kick butt and take names. And you do it with so much care that people can't help but be moved by you. None of that has to do with me.

"But I'll admit it – I'm greedy. I want to be part of your happiness. I want to be the one who you share everything with. I want to make promises to you that I get to keep. Does that make you nervous?"

Emma smiled against his chest. Leave it to George to have a woman willingly wrapped in his arms, and yet worry about scaring her away.

"Emma." Finally, she dared to meet his eyes. "I'm going to kiss you. I thought you should know."

She nodded.

What happened next would be forever seared in her memory. The soft slide of George's hand on her cheek. His face – his familiar handsome face – drawing closer and closer, until it was all she could see. Her eyelids fluttering shut. A quick intake of breath. Then, ever so tenderly, the touch of his lips against hers.

Emma was overwhelmed. Her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. She inhaled and his scent and taste enveloped her. Instinct took over as he took her further under. _Mine. His._ Her hands, hungry for contact, reached up to wrap around back of his neck. Lips, teeth, and tongue teased and soothed until, desperate for air, they reluctantly pulled apart.

Her eyes opened. George's smile was dazzling.

"Oh."

"She speaks."

"You haven't removed your coat."

A beat. " _Really?_ "

As much as Emma enjoyed torturing George, she knew she had to relent. He had made himself vulnerable to her. It was time to face her feelings.

"What do I say here? You come to me with all those wonderful words. You kiss me until I can't think. If I haven't responded, it's because I'm afraid I'll shatter this moment. And I think I'd die a little inside to find out it wasn't real."

"So. This is good."

She nodded in agreement. "It's good. Really really good. Mixed with a little weird. Don't you think it's a little weird?"

"Maybe." A grin. "That's a blatant lie. I've been wanting this for so long that I bypassed weird ages ago. What can I do to help you get over it?" His tone had turned suggestive. To Emma's surprise, she didn't hate it.

"You want a list? I probably need some time to thi—"

He cut her off with another kiss. _Definitely getting over it,_ was the last thing Emma thought for quite some time.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**

Emma awoke with a start. The bed beside her was empty, but the sheets were warm from its recent occupant. As she sat up, the bathroom door opened to reveal George, hair lightly mussed, eyes still sleepy. He frowned. "You're up. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shrugged. "You know I'm an early riser. In fact," she glanced at the clock, "this is later than I've slept in a long time." She blushed a little as she recalled exactly why.

George climbed back in beside her. As he drew the covers up to their necks, Emma found herself marveling at how _right_ she felt. As if this moment was not the first, as if it was an enduring ritual between two longtime lovers.

"You're thinking deep thoughts. I can tell by the crinkle right there." He brushed a gentle finger between her eyebrows. "Care to share with the class?"

"Nothing earth-shattering. Just…adjusting."

George gave a little sigh. "I guess it can't be helped. Last night was a turning point. Even with the benefit of knowing how I've felt about you, I'm also getting used to having you here with me like this."

"How long have you felt," Emma searched for the right word, " _more_ for me?"

George leaned in for a light kiss, then rolled onto his back to look up at her ceiling. "It's not my finest behavior. Truthfully? I began realizing it when Frank showed up in town. It killed me to watch him flirt with you. And to see you enjoy it. And to hear everyone else encourage it."

Emma winced. "We weren't subtle."

"By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I was pretty much at the end of my rope. I thought your comments to Alicia were evidence of his influence. You know how I feel about the way he treats people."

"We've been over it, so I'm not going to say more than this – I was thoughtless at Thanksgiving. But it certainly wasn't because of some Frank-related osmosis."

"I know that now. But at that point, I had just about given up. I needed a break, so I begged Jon and Izzy to take me in for a couple of weeks. I was all ready to let it go. And then you tried to kiss me."

" _What? When?_ " Emma was indignant.

"In front of the coffee shop."

"That was an _accident_."

"So you say." George's tone was insufferably smug. Emma briefly considered smothering him with a pillow. She settled for poking him in the ribs. He grabbed the offending hand, then brought it to rest on his chest. "No, I know you didn't mean to. But you were so self-conscious after. It gave me hope. Not to mention, it was entirely endearing."

"How was I supposed to react? I accidentally kinda kissed my best friend. And it stirred something inside me. I didn't expect that at all."

"It stirred something, huh?"

"Okay, ego." Her tone was playful. "I still hadn't figured out how I felt. Actually, it wasn't until last night… Wait. Why did you come over last night?"

"Anne called me in the morning. She was worried about how you'd take the news about Frank and Jane. I have to admit I was a little validated to hear my suspicions confirmed. But beyond that, I was worried about you. You don't know how many times I picked up my phone to text or call you. It was driving Jon and Izzy insane."

"So they kicked you out?"

"Izzy bought my Metro North ticket herself. She told me not to come back until you and I had 'reached an understanding.' Those were her exact words."

"It's like she knew before we did."

"Emma. I think it's been pretty obvious that I've been in love with you for awhile."

George's words – so casually spoken – clutched at her heart. He was _in love_ with her.

He must have felt her stiffen and realized what he'd said. His eyes widened. " _Shit._ No pressure. We just got here. Pretend I didn't—"

"You can't take it back!" Emma cut him off. George's mouth snapped shut, but his body remained tense, waiting for her response. "I may not have known for as long as you have, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way."

"Really?"

"Really." She rolled over, coming nose to nose with him. His arms banded around her to keep her steady. _Poetic_ , Emma thought."Do I have your undivided attention?" He nodded.

"George Knightley, I love you." It felt wonderful to say it. She wanted to say it all the time.

"That's excellent, because I love you too, Emma Woodhouse." It felt just as wonderful to hear it.

Their kiss started gently, but quickly intensified with the confidence of each knowing the other inside and out. Dizzying. Exhilarating. Safe. _Loved_.

George pulled his head away. Emma whined and followed, but he was undeterred. "Wait. I showed you mine. You show me yours."

Emma laughed. "Well, okay then." She reached for the hem of her shirt.

George caught her hand. "You know what I mean. When did you realize you loved me?"

Foiled in her quest, Emma settled for shifting to snuggle into his side. "I'll admit I've been pretty blind. It's like all the puzzle pieces were there inside me; I just didn't know how to fit them together. It wasn't until yesterday, when Hannah…" _Crap._

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot. Hannah told me yesterday that she's had feelings for you. Since Anne's wedding, in fact."

George sighed. "I was afraid of that. She started texting me and asking me out for coffee once we got back. I tried to discourage her, but I didn't want to hurt her."

"She showed me some of your texts yesterday as evidence of an understanding between you two. I didn't know what to think. You'd never said anything to me. But I've been so misguided – first Elton, then Frank – that I didn't know what to tell her."

"You'd lump me in the same category with those two?" George sounded mildly offended.

"No! Never. But I've misread things so horribly. I thought maybe something had developed between you and Hannah, and I hadn't realized it."

He pulled her back to him and hugged her close. "Doesn't matter now. We're sorted."

"But how am I going to tell her?"

George's eyes were sympathetic. "It's going to suck. But it's the right thing to do."

"I know. You're right."

They lapsed into silence, each thinking their own thoughts.

Suddenly, Emma shot George a calculating look. "You love me, right?"

"Yes…"

"So you'll get up and make coffee?" She nodded toward the kitchen, which was only 10 paces away. At most.

"Emma…" He rolled his eyes.

"You said you love me! Take pity on me in this cold apartment. Make me the happiest woman in New Haven…by making coffee." She cheered as George gave a great sigh and reluctantly pulled himself out of bed.

Eyes narrowing, he leveled a finger at her. "You owe me. And don't think I won't collect."

Emma grinned. "I think I'm going to enjoy being in love with you."


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**

Emma's phone chimed. _Anne: I believe u have something to tell me._

Two minutes later, another chime. _A: Izzy said George went to see u last night._

Another two minutes. _A: He didn't get back to NY until the noon train. And he was whistling._

Emma sighed. The cat was out of the bag. _Yeah, we had a turning point last night._

 _A: Need details!_

 _E: A lady never tells._

 _A: A lady never tells beyond her closest friends…_

Emma laughed to herself. _There's not a whole lot. He was jealous of Frank._

 _A: I might have guessed.  
I've been wondering when u 2 would wake up._

 _E: Has it been obvious?_

 _A: Only to those of us who know you best.  
Tell George I didn't mean for Frank to make him jealous, ok?_

Of course, Anne would have some guilt about that. Emma rushed to reassure her. _Water under the bridge._

 _A: We'll see you around Christmas, then? Drinks on us. Double date.  
Oooh, I liked saying that._

Emma had known their friends would approve, but it was nice to hear it all the same.

 _E: Definitely. XOXO._

Emma eyed the phone in her hand. Such a small device with so much power. In a moment, it could bring someone their greatest happiness or realize their greatest fears. She shook her head to clear out her overly dramatic thoughts.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, Emma scrolled to her messages with Hannah and typed. _Hey, u there? Have some news._

Delivered.

Read.

Emma waited for the three dots indicating Hannah's response.

And waited.

Realizing she had been staring at the phone for three whole minutes, Emma set it aside to turn back to the journal she'd been browsing.

A chime. She snatched her phone back up. _George: Kinda wish I hadn't committed to all these client meetings in NY._

Emma grinned. She hadn't expected to hear from him until later, but it was nice to know she was on his mind. _Way too responsible. Still sure we belong together?_

 _G: I'm offended u'd even go there._

 _E: U love my smart mouth._

 _G: Yeah, I do. I should know better._

She gave a little laugh-snort. It was comforting to know they still could tease each other.

 _E: Anne says she didn't mean for Frank to make u jealous._

 _G: She shouldn't worry. Was my wake up call._

 _E: I texted Hannah too. She read it, but no response yet._

 _G: Hang in there. She'll come around._

 _E: I wish I had ur confidence._

 _G: Have to wait until this wknd to have my anything._

Emma raised an eyebrow. Who knew George would be such an overt flirt?

 _E: Stop propositioning me. I'm taken._

 _G: Speaking of wknd…ur dad wants to have lunch._

 _E: What r we going to tell him?  
He's going to need time to adjust._

 _G: It won't be so bad. Only difference is when in Hartford, we'll have sleepovers.  
Too presumptuous?_

 _E: No, I'd prefer it too. But we have to get his blessing._

 _G: What happened to smashing the patriarchy?_

 _E: Not when ur patriarch has taught u everything about smashing it._

 _G: Good thing he loves me already._

 _E: We have to talk about this smugness._

 _G: Good thing u love me already._

 _E: Really? Doubling down?_

 _G: TTYL. Love u, lady. Don't worry about Hannah._

 _E: TTYL. Love u too. I'll try._

Emma set her phone down, trying to refocus on the article she'd been reading before Anne had texted. She was successful for about 10 minutes, when –

Ding.

 _Jane Fairfax: Hi, it's Jane Fairfax. Hope u don't mind me texting u…_

Seemed like working today was a total bust.

 _E: Of course not. And CONGRATS!_

 _J: Thx. I'm so sorry about our behavior. Frank was totally shameless._

 _E: It's okay. It helped George and me realize our feelings for each other._

 _J: Anne told me. So happy for u two._

She winced. Gossip Girl had nothing on her group of friends.

 _J: Also wanted to say thx for something totally separate.  
Wouldn't have gotten the start on this Cambodia project w/o ur input._

Recalling her conversation with Alicia after Thanksgiving, Emma smiled. Apparently, George _had_ told Jane the source of his advice.

 _E: It's nothing. George asked for my opinion…and u know I have too many…_

 _J: It was exactly what I needed to build momentum.  
I had an idea, but couldn't figure out how to make it happen._

 _E: In that case, I'm glad. U guys r going to do big things in Cambodia._

 _J: I know we haven't been super close. But hope we'll stay in touch?_

 _E: Absolutely. Maybe we'll make a trip out? I've never been._

 _J: We'd love to host u guys.  
Also, we're having a send off in NYC before we leave in Jan.  
Hope u and George will be there._

 _E: Send us the details. Will be there w bells on._

 _J: Great. See u then. Glad everything has worked out._

She knew it was weirdly convenient, but Emma couldn't help but agree. Sometimes, things just worked out.

 _E: Me too. Take care._

Emma set her phone down and pulled herself off the couch. It felt as good of a time as any to head out for a run. Pleased with the prospect of at least 30 minutes text-free, she went off in search of her favorite running shoes.


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33**

Emma sat in her usual spot in the coffee shop, waiting as George ordered at the counter. The holidays had gone by in a whirl of activity, heightened by the new dimension to their relationship. Every occasion had felt so familiar and yet so fresh, surrounded by those they loved most in the world.

And with the new year had come the best news of all. An addition to their group – baby Taylor Weston, due in July. George had joked that Taylor Weston was the ultimate name. Both given name and family name, fitting for baby girl or baby boy. _The next one will be Weston Taylor_ , Anne had deadpanned.

Through it all, one thing had marred Emma's happiness. Still nothing from Hannah.

George's shadow fell across the table as he set her café au lait down. She turned her face up to accept his kiss. He tasted like almond biscotti. Emma was playfully outraged. "You sneak. Where's mine?"

His grin was unrepentant. "You didn't do any of the work. Chef's treat."

"The work of _ordering coffee_? I swear if I didn't love you so much…" She trailed off as he reached into his blazer's inner pocket.

"If _I_ didn't love _you_ so much, I wouldn't have brought you your own. And it's chocolate dipped."

Her eyes went wide with delight. "Marry me, George. Marry me today."

He laughed. "One step at a time. How about coffee first?"

"If I must." Emma noted that, even thought it was a joke, he hadn't flinched or hesitated. She mentally filed that tidbit for later.

Her eyes followed George as he headed back to the counter to retrieve his own drink. The front door opened; Emma froze as she recognized the new arrival. Hannah.

Emma watched her friend stride up behind George and tap his elbow. A quizzical turn became an easy smile, followed by a quick friendly hug. They exchanged a few words, then he nodded toward their table. Hannah's eyes met hers. Knowing that escape was impossible, Emma waved and smiled weakly.

As they made their way over, Emma scrambled for an appropriate greeting. _Hi, I see you're alive despite your lack of communication._ Too passive aggressive. _Hi, I'm sorry I stole George from under your nose, but I didn't realize that we were each in love with the other this whole time._ Too defensive. Out of time, she offered, "Hi. Happy New Year."

To her surprise, Hannah seemed unsure. "Hi. I saw George at the counter, and thought I'd say hello."

George, ever the hero, broke in. "Hannah was just picking up some coffee to take back to the Academy for her and Robbie. Why don't I go place your order so you two can catch up? A latte and a double cappuccino, right?" Without waiting for a response – he knew them well enough to know their orders – he set down his own cup and swiftly departed. They both watched him go.

Emma turned to her friend, still unsure of what to say. "Would you like to sit?"

Hannah nodded with a relieved smile. As she settled into the chair, she remarked, "I can't stay long. I really did promise Robbie coffee."

"You can blame me if it cools a little before you get back."

They slipped into silence, neither knowing how to proceed. Finally, Emma decided she'd just go for it.

"So George and I…" She didn't get any further as Hannah jumped in.

"I figured from your text. Oh, Emma, I'm so sorry I never answered. You see, I didn't at first because I was so upset. And then I wasn't but I didn't know how to tell you what had happened."

Emma thought she followed Hannah's train of thought, but she couldn't be quite sure. "What _did_ happen?"

"Well, the day after your text, I guess I wasn't totally myself. So when Robbie asked if I wanted a drink with him and his sister, I tagged along to cheer myself up. And at the pub, we just got to talking about everything – life, love, disappointment... You called him my mentor, Emma, but he's…"

"…He's become more?" Emma gently prodded.

Hannah nodded. "Are you disappointed?"

"Are you kidding? Girl, I am _stoked_." Emma's face broke into a wide grin.

"Oh _thank God_. I've been dying to tell you. Robbie thought I was nuts, and that I should just text you. But it'd been a couple of weeks, and I just didn't know how to do it. I wanted to tell you how wonderful it all was, but I was scared that you wouldn't approve."

As Hannah stopped to catch her breath, Emma winced. "Am I that judgmental? I never meant to be."

"No. A little? I mean, I know you've always wanted the best for me. And Robbie kind of _is_ the best. For me. Emma, he _sees_ me, you know? I'm forgetful. I walk into doors sometimes. I talk too much. I like trash tv. And he likes it all."

"Slow down there. You have the biggest heart I know. That's worth more than anything else. And I was wrong this past spring. If Robbie adores you for you, then he's perfect." Emma nodded toward George, who was approaching with two cups to go. "George will be excited for you guys, too."

"Excited for who guys?" George set Hannah's order on the table.

"Hannah and Robbie—" Emma's words came out in a little sing-song. She giggled.

George smiled at Hannah as he slid into the booth next to his girlfriend. "Good, you told her?"

" _You knew?_ " Emma swatted lightly at him. "Why am I always the last to know these days?"

George easily evaded her. "Robbie only mentioned it last weekend. And it wasn't my news to tell."

Emma noticed Hannah staring at them, eyes round. Caught, her friend ducked her head. "Sorry. It's my first time really seeing you two like this."

George chuckled. "We're insufferable, I suppose."

Hannah got up to leave. "Well, thanks for the coffee. Robbie and I will get yours next time."

Emma nudged George out of the booth to give her friend a parting hug. "I'm so happy for you," she whispered as she let go. With an acknowledging smile, Hannah left.

As she sat back down, Emma turned to her boyfriend. "I feel another one coming on."

George looked way too innocent. "Another what?"

"Let's just get it over with."

"That's not something a man wants to hear."

" _George._ " It came out as a whine.

"Better."

" _GEORGE!"_

He burst into laughter. "Get ready, Emma Woodhouse. I. Told. You. So."


	34. Epilogue

A/N – Welp, that's all she wrote. This was my first fic, and goodness did it feel like a doozy. I was probably crazy to attempt Austen as my initial foray, but your reviews and encouragement have been nothing short of amazing. Thanks to everyone who has come along for the ride!

 **EPILOGUE**

Entering their little holiday bungalow, Emma kicked the shoes off her sore feet. She watched as George shrugged out of his blazer, then set about loosening the knot in his tie. His fingers fumbled, betraying the extent of his exhaustion.

"Need a hand?" She crossed the room to the armchair he had collapsed in. He pulled her onto his lap for a snuggle while she untied the offending accessory.

He smiled up at her. "Frank and Jane certainly looked happy tonight."

Emma bestowed a quick peck on George's upturned lips. "I'm still a little stunned that Frank actually followed through on his proposal. And here in Cambodia, no less. But I think Jane's been a good influence. Have you noticed? Something about him seems more... sincere."

"If you say so. It still took them three years to make it to the altar."

"Three years of incredibly hard work on both their parts. They've had other things to worry about. Can you believe how popular those bags have become? And Jane's opening another school in six months." Her eyes narrowed. "Anyway, when did you become the cynic?"

George protested. "Am not. Their relationship has weathered plenty of challenges, that's for sure. But if I were Frank, I wouldn't have lost any time once Jane accepted my proposal." He paled as he realized how his words could be misinterpreted.

Emma enjoyed his expression. Thankfully, she was in a forgiving mood. "It's been ages since I've been jealous of Jane Fairfax. I'm just thrilled to have been included. Who knew that we'd become so close after such a rocky start?"

"If you recall, I did. In my office. You were trying to convince me that I had feelings for her, when all I could think about was how your very tasteful skirt rode up when you crossed your legs."

"Shame on you, George. And here I thought you loved me for my mind."

"I do. But I think you'd be a little disappointed if I didn't love your other assets just as much."

Emma let out a low laugh. "I suppose I love your _other assets_ too."

He gave her a little squeeze as they smiled into each other's eyes. The silence was warm and comforting.

Suddenly, Emma's mood shifted to something more serious. "George? I…" She trailed off.

His eyes were quizzical. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" An obvious lie. _Crap._ She inhaled deeply. "Well, not nothing. But it's not wrong, either. It's just something I've been thinking about for awhile and I know I'm not supposed to be the one to ask, but it's not like it's a big surprise since we've talked about it and who cares about gender roles anyway, and –"

"You're babbling."

"—Will you marry me?" George's mouth clicked shut.

Emma took in his face. Was that…amusement? Not the reaction she was expecting. She pouted. "Are you _laughing_ at me?"

"No!" George rushed to reassure her. Both hands left her waist to tenderly cup her cheeks. "Emma Woodhouse, it'd be my great honor to be your husband."

He drew her down for a kiss. But Emma resisted. "Why do I still think you're laughing at me?"

George rolled his eyes. "This is very upsetting. Will you please kiss me? I've just gotten engaged to the love of my life."

And yet she persisted. "George Knightley, _what_ were you laughing at?"

He sighed. "Give me strength," he muttered to no one in particular. Giving Emma a little nudge off his lap, he rose from the chair. Crossing the room, he retrieved his blazer.

"Are you going out?" The panic rose in her throat.

He looked aggrieved. "No, crazy lady. Didn't you hear me? I just got engaged. I'd love to kiss and possibly do other things with my new fiancée, but it appears we need to clear up something first." He handed her the jacket. "Inside breast pocket."

Emma took it, frowning as she dug around in its depths. Her fingers collided with what felt like a small velvet pouch. Her breath caught. _Could he have…?_

She fished it out. In her fingers was a midnight blue pouch with a small clasp. "Open it, Em."

She did as he asked, tipping its contents into her palm. She gasped.

In her hand was a dainty platinum ring, bearing a bright white marquis cut diamond flanked by smaller triangular side stones. It sparkled and flashed at her, gleaming and winking its promise.

"Emma Woodhouse, will you marry me?" George's voice floated up to her. _Up?_ She glanced down past her hand.

There he was, bent on one knee. His eyes shined bright with a jumble of emotions – love, patience, friendship, passion, hope. Everything he felt for her was on display.

Her eyes welled up. She couldn't help it. " _Yes._ " She leapt for him, tumbling them both to the floor.

George laughed as she smothered his face with kisses. Steadying her in his arms, he reached up to take a long leisurely sip from her mouth. He smiled as they came up for air. "Careful with the ring. It's my grandmother's."

Emma's head snapped back. "Oh! I want you to put it on me." She sat up, bringing George with her, and uncurling the fist she had made around the precious piece.

He took it from her outstretched palm. With her left hand in his, he slipped the ring on her third finger. She held her hand to the light. "It's gorgeous. Did you really intend to ask me on this trip?"

George nodded. "Not before the wedding. I'd never steal Jane and Frank's thunder. But once we got to Vietnam – I was just waiting for the right bowl of pho to slip it into."

"You were not. But maybe in a convenient banh mi," Emma joked, knowing he'd never be that cavalier with a family heirloom. "And I went and asked you first." Her tone was triumphant.

"But I actually planned a proposal. So really…"

"I still asked you first!" She tackled him, coming nose to nose with him on the carpet once again.

He pretended to give it thought. "I suppose we can tell our future kids that version."

"Because it's accurate."

"Maybe in _your_ head."

"George Knightley, I swear you are the biggest pain in my neck."

"And you are the biggest pain in mine."

"Despite my best intentions, I'll make mistakes."

"So will I."

"But you have to know that I'll love you. For the rest of our lives."

"So will I."

"We're agreed then? Love and support each other for the rest of our lives?"

He tugged her down for a kiss. Just before his lips touched hers, he whispered three words: "Count on it."

 _Fin._


End file.
